


The Element of Trust

by The_Grace_of_Cas (Space413)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Castiel, Broken Castiel, Castiel Whump, Coda, Dark, Dark Dean Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Demonic Possession, Episode: s09e06 Heaven Can't Wait, Fallen Castiel, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, Loss of Trust, M/M, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Pain, Possessed Dean, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Season/Series 09, Smut, Top Dean, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:12:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space413/pseuds/The_Grace_of_Cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting tortured by a fallen angel who poisons him, Cas returns to the bunker after nearly dying. Things aren't making any sense, and, on top of being terrified of when Dean's going to kick him out, very realistic nightmares begin to come to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Be Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Very angsty and dark.

Maybe Cas acting as Steve had been him just waiting. Waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for someone that  _used_ to be his family to come in and smite him. Somehow that thought didn’t stop the pain he felt when he was flung against the wall by an angel working for Bartholomew named Tronniel. It  _hurt_  without his grace. His (or could you even consider the limbs he was bound to his own?) body shook in  _pain_ with the sheer compact, and Tronniel chained his hands once again above his head. Heaven was no place of peace when you were an angel fighting a war, so the angels knew how to torture.

Cas  _would’ve_ cracked. He was nearly sure that, by the time Tronniel looked at him in dismay and resignation, he would’ve told them everything. The only thing worth that pain would’ve been keeping the Winchesters safe. He would’ve spilt all the information he had on any other sort of grand scheme, for he was the weak when it came to this mundane pain.

But he couldn’t tell Tronniel what he wanted to hear. He honestly didn’t know how to reverse Metatron’s spell. He hadn’t wanted this to happen; he’d wanted to fix it all! They’d have plenty of reason to really want his head, but the fact he wasn’t helping them fix it now was not on him.

“ _Castiel_ ,” Tronniel said maliciously. It was funny he now thought of himself with a different name from the one he’d spent millennia growing used to. “You don’t know then?” he finally said. Did his brother finally see the truth?

“ _Yes_ ,” Cas breathed. Agony shook throughout his body. It was so vibrant and sharp. “That’s what…” but he finished “I’ve been trying to tell you” in barely a breath because he simply didn’t have the energy.

“Really?” Tronniel said. He seemed like he was mocking Cas now. Cas tried to nod, the pain echoing through his neck and down his spine. “Well, drink this!” and he shoved a liquid down Cas’s throat before Cas could even move. He felt himself swallow, terrified of the knife on his neck. That immediate danger seemed to overweigh the fright of that unknown substance entering his body. “So, I’m not going to make you crack. Pray to me when you’ve had enough, when you’re ready to spill. For now, go find that bloody Dean Winchester. If he’ll even have you,” Tronniel spat. He did Cas the favour of unbounding the restraints on his wrists then vanished into thin air, just like Cas used to be able to, leaving Cas helpless in some abandoned warehouse where Cas was completely lost, crumpled on the ground.

He tried to gag up whatever poison that fallen angel had forced down his throat, but somehow he couldn’t manage it.

\---

Cas had an old cellphone with him. He’d gotten it right after… right after the  _incident_ with Dean. He didn’t want to think about that. He really didn’t.

There were only various numbers for Sam and Dean, then one for Kevin and a hunter named Garth. Of course, he knew how to call the police, but calling them could bring more fallen angels down on him.

He tried “Garth”. He didn’t want to be a burden (the thought now made him sick), but he also didn’t want to die, and with the blood seeping through the wounds Tronniel had left, this was necessary.

Garth didn’t pick up. Cas tried to stop more of the blood from flowing.

The realisation scared him more than it should have. He was going to have to call the bunker. He was going to have to ask for help off one of  _them_ , the people he’d once mistaken for family. The ones that being in the mere presence of endangered them.

He couldn’t call Dean. He just couldn’t. He couldn’t stand refusal to be admitted into their household again, and Cas saw this as a possibility even if it nearly certainly meant his death. That was just something an inch too painful for him to withstand.

Sam would tell Dean if Cas called. Sam wouldn’t keep a secret like that from Dean; Cas was sure. So instead he called the prophet because maybe Kevin could reply in a way that could  _help_. What a pity he hadn’t memorised Nora’s number.

Or maybe he should just die here, on this cold concrete slab in such a human world. He probably would’ve chosen this alternative if not for his last encounter with Dean. Dean had fought for him to be alive then (though he probably just felt responsible), and Cas had chosen to live. Well, this was him living.

His finger trembled when he pressed it against the plastic button. Kevin picked up on the fourth ring.

“Who’s this?” asked a panicked, young voice.

“It’s… Castiel. Could you  _please_ not tell Sam or Dean of this?” Cas said quickly and carefully, feeling faint and delirious.

“Cas? Are you okay?” Kevin asked promptly, probably hearing the shake in Cas’s voice.

“I…” he didn’t know what to say. He shouldn’t have cowarded this one out. He should’ve called Dean even if to be turned down because now he was going to bleed to death. The blood, had it increased its rate of leaving his body while he tried to prevent it? He was beginning to get impossibly dizzy.

“Keep safe,” Cas said quickly instead of properly answering. He could feel the blackness crawling towards him. The darkness, it was welcoming. It was overwhelmingly terrifying.

He wasn’t quite sure why his last words had been Kevin saying to be safe, to stay alive. He felt cheated that they weren’t to Dean when they really should’ve been.

But somehow it made sense.

Or maybe these thoughts were just the dizziness kicking in.

By the time the darkness encumbered his mind he welcomed it with open arms.

\---

“ _Cas_ ,” he heard distantly.  _“Cas,_ ” he heard again. Faintly it sounded like Dean’s voice. Stupidly, he wondered if he was in Heaven. He would’ve let himself believe this if it weren’t for the fact he knew he’d never make it back there.

Opening drowsy eyes, he saw all in red.

And felt a terrified scream leave his throat.

His thoughts were jumbled, tumbling over themselves like crazy. Dean was there under a red filter, a bloody screen on Cas’s eyes.

Was this normal? Had he become partially blinded?

And then, just like a flash, everything was normal. Even his thoughts were a little saner. Dean was above him, staring at him desperately with such green eyes. Crisp, clear… right. Cas could still see Dean’s soul in their reflection.

“Dean?” Cas asked tentatively. He lifted his arms up to examine where torn flesh had been not so long ago. They were… better? His body was intact. Had Dean done something foolish for this? “ _Dean_.”

“Cas, oh my God,” Dean said. He wrapped his arms around Cas and from Cas’s resting position on the couch he was on, Dean’s chest filled his face. It was a warm embrace that felt like home.  _Home_ …

He was going to be kicked out again soon. He was going to have to go through all of that a second time. He was going to have to look Dean in the eyes while the hunter told him that he couldn’t stay. Or, no, maybe he wouldn’t say that this time, since Cas obviously knew it by now. Maybe he’d plain out say to his face that he didn’t want him there.

Cas was getting ahead of himself. Dean wouldn’t ever say that to him. He’d just make an excuse to get around that obvious truth. And who could blame him? What was Cas even, now?

He felt Dean slap him in the face, and that snapped him back to reality. The edges of his view of the world around him seemed slightly distorted, but then adjusted itself back to a solid reality.

For the third time he said Dean’s name, except this time it was confused. It was hurt. “ _Dean?_ ”

“Cas, I was so worried. You lost so much blood,” Dean continued, his expression not giving away for a second that he’d just visibly hit Cas. Cas felt sick to his stomach. If it weren’t for the stinging on his cheek he’d’ve thought he’d imagined it.

“How… how am I okay?” Cas asked. His brain was so foggy he couldn’t make sense of things, but his general state of wellbeing seemed suspicious.

“I got… help. Don’t worry you’ll be okay; I’ll be okay,” Dean said. He gave Cas a glance before looking away quickly. “You just need to heal up the rest of the way,” he added, but Cas felt the unsaid words tacked on the end of that.  _Then you have to leave again._

Cas fell asleep, and this time it was comfortable.

\---

The next few days Cas didn’t do much. He helped Sam some on research, since reading was one thing he was good at, and tried to “heal up”, as Dean would say.

He dreaded being healthy. He dreaded it so much. Because, despite Dean’s cold distance towards him and the way he avoided being in the same room as him, he felt safe. That was something he hadn’t felt in ages.

The memories of the cold store floor sent shivers down his spine. He remembered that it wasn’t even  _that_ cold, but after draining his energy with tears it had been. After wetting his cheeks with the secret display of broken heart on his face, he could never stop the shudders. He’d lie there in a ball, praying to no one (because anyone whoever would hear him would kill him) to make this pain leave. Praying to an absent God for Dean to come and save him from this agony, despite the fact it’d been Dean who’d sent him away to feel this ache.

Humanity was difficult. Humanity was painful.

But, despite how much  _better_ this was, Cas didn’t understand why Dean wouldn’t speak with him much. How he’d avoid conversation besides asking how Cas was physically feeling or if Cas’s liked the food he’d made. But he supposed he should take what he got because this was luxury.

There were some odd things about his healing. That’s why it took him so long to shake the injury. Sometimes his vision would fray or he’d get random spazzes of pain that didn’t make much sense. But they seemed to be fading, and that’s all that was important.

Five days later, when Cas considered himself healed, he went to talk to Dean. He just… needed to confirm that his being here was alright.

He prepared himself for more of that human heartbreak.

“Dean?” he asked, knocking on Dean’s door. The sound slightly resonated and sounded as hollow as Cas felt.

“You can come in, Cas,” Dean called from inside.

Once inside Dean’s bedroom, Cas froze.

Everything there was so clearly  _Dean_. It was like a bit of the colour of his soul was sparkled over the room, making it one beautiful thing. It phased Cas momentarily, but he was here for a reason. He was here to not see this beautiful place again.

“Should I… be here?” Cas asked Dean. He said it to the ground, not wanting to meet Dean’s eyes when he tore him apart. Unfortunately, Dean always seemed to and he dragged Cas’s view up. He searched the question of Cas’s vague words in his eyes and made Cas feel stripped naked under his gaze.

“I’ve got it… I’ve got it under control, okay? You’re safe here. Everything’s okay,” Dean said. Cas closed his eyes. He couldn’t register it. Dean put his hands on Cas’s shoulders to comfort him.

He could… stay?

“I’ve got a room made for you? Okay? I just wanted you on the couch while you were healing because I can get there faster, but you look good enough now.”

Cas fought every instinct not to cry.

“Thank you, Dean,” he said. “Thank you.”

Dean led him to another bedroom, and somehow it felt like it had the colour of Dean’s soul washed with something he couldn’t identify. Of course, he couldn’t really identify anything anymore, but this was beautiful. Cas never wanted to leave; this seemed the epiphany of home.

He couldn’t let himself believe he’d get to keep this. That would just make everything so much more painful when Dean changed his mind. Cas was useless after all.

This was much too dangerous. Castiel was rejoicing in this; he was happy. He could feel himself believing in a future with happiness. He felt himself starting to believe maybe Dean really did care for him and didn’t just need him for his powers. But thinking these things would be much too dreadful because he was bound to lose it all, and now it felt like he had so much more to lose.

Dean Winchester always made him feel this vulnerable.

\---

Despite the pure utter glory and happiness, happiness that Cas never expected to experience  _ever_ , he woke up every night screaming. The first time Sam’d woken up and worried about him, but Cas said it was fine. He was used to nightmares, but this one had just been extremely vivid.

But then, the next night, the nightmare was ever more terrifying and vivid. Falling, falling faster than sound (it felt like it was faster than light) towards the scary ground. He thought it was real, well, he didn’t ask himself whether he thought it was real or not since it was a dream, but it  _felt_ real. It even left the echo of the burning pain from the fall flaring up against his body.

They got worse from there.

But the days, they were fantastic. Dean, well, he seemed to be getting used to Cas being human. Sometimes he’d randomly look very brooding and ignore Cas or hit him unexpectedly, but most of the time he’d talk and laugh alongside Cas, like nothing else ever happened. At first, the random bouts of coldness got to Cas, but he soon got used to it.

Well, even with getting used to it, it was very difficult not to feel torn apart when someone you love like Cas loves Dean physically hurts you, but Cas could ignore it and manage.

Sam seemed to not even have to adjust to Cas’s sudden change in species. He accepted Cas full on. Kevin didn’t really care either way. Everything seemed nearly good if you cut out the fact they were desperately searching on how to kill a Knight of Hell. Dean and Sam sometimes ran little cases around town. Cas had gone on a couple, but one time Dean’d yelled at him unexpectedly when they were supposed to be quiet, and Cas’d replied but apparently Dean hadn’t said a thing, Cas must’ve been mistaken or something… so he didn’t really go anymore.

Dean still often seemed distant, even through the happiness, but then came  _that_  night.

It had been during the night, except Cas was sure, this time, that he hadn’t been dreaming. Dean came in and woke him up, mad as hell at him for some reason. Cas could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath when it wafted towards him from the small distance between them.

“You  _never_ trusted me,” he said. Cas was left awfully confused. He’d thought things were mostly okay. Honestly, mostly okay.

But with the way Dean lived… bottling things up so much… resentment for the past was bound to come through. Cas could think of a good few things he could also throw back in the hunter’s face, but he didn’t want to start a fire. He wanted to blow away the flames.

“Dean, maybe you should go to bed…” Cas said warily.

“But don’t you want to know why I let your useless ass stay here?” Dean asked, and it caught Cas off guard. He hadn’t been prepared to hear something like that come from Dean. It was true, though. He was useless. And he was wondering.

“Because we’re family?” Cas asked pathetically. Dean’d somehow known the exact words to intensify his doubt.

“That’s an interesting answer,” Dean said. Right after that he hit Cas so hard in the face Cas was sure it would leave a mark.

“Dean,” Cas complained, his voice now small.

“You do trust me, don’t you?” Dean said, but he didn’t sound like he was marvelling the words. More like he was feeding off them for information, for, maybe even, fuel.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied. Then Dean grabbed his hair to make him standing straight up before kicking his stomach onto the bed and flipping him over, and the ex-angel began to question his words.

Dean began doing the oddest things. He nibbled Cas’s ears and kissed his neck all the way done his back, despite the fact it was clothed. Cas began to wonder if his dreams just hadn’t gotten so vivid he’d feel them as if they were living, but with the pleasure this gave him, and the hardness he felt in his pants now, he thought it must be real.

Then Dean ripped down his jeans that he’d worn to bed. The rough removal hurt but the suddenness and implication were much more worrying.

“Dean?” Cas asked as Dean roughly removed his shirt and continued kissing down his back.

“You trust me, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas replied. He felt himself clinging onto the words now more than ever. His mind was on fire with these shots of pleasure running through his mind and this… with Dean… it just didn’t make much sense. Dean… Dean wouldn’t do that, would he? And, if by some off chance that he would do something as unexpected as this, wouldn’t he ask Cas? Look for Cas’s approval of the situation? Should Cas be telling him “no” now, telling him to stop?

Dean scraped his nails harshly down Cas’s back leaving a pulsing pain after the sharp sting. Cas couldn’t help but give out a little gasp in pain, and Dean repeated again “ _You trust me, Cas?_ ”

Now the fallen angel was holding onto that pure trust and faith he had in the hunter for dear life. He nodded again, wondering if Dean was considering that consent.

It wasn’t.

But apparently it was to Dean, who inserted a finger inside of Cas’s hole, and Cas gave out a small cry in protest. “ _Dean…_ ” he whispered, wondering when the man would stop.

“You trust me, Cas?” Dean repeated yet again, and Cas wasn’t sure if he could nod.

“I trust you,” he said instead, desperately hoping Dean wouldn’t break that trust.

“Good, Cas…” the hunter whispered. He inserted two fingers quickly, and it was painful enough to get another startled gasp from Cas. Pulling them out hurt just the same, and Dean quickly moved back to search for something. Cas moved up and around to see what was going on, but Dean shoved him back onto the mattress before applying something around him mouth.

Duct tape. Dean duct-taped Cas’s mouth.

“ _You want to know what trust feels like, Cas?_ ” Dean asked in a mocking whisper. Cas closed his eyes in preparation for the pain. As much as he trusted Dean, he couldn’t fight the pure instinct that pain was indeed what would come.

He hadn’t been quite prepared for Dean to start raping him. Was that really what it was?

He shoved into Cas painfully, and the duct tape made sense for Cas would’ve screamed in the agony if it hadn’t been there. He bit down on his tongue till he tasted blood.

“ _This is what trust feels like,_ ” Dean said. He said it like a mantra as he moved in and out. The only thing that let Cas loosen up was the blood. Cas felt as if Dean was splitting him apart. Tearing him up, that’s not something Dean would do. “ _This is what trust feels like_ ,” Dean repeated. He said that until he gasped in what Cas supposed was the ecstasy of an orgasm. He slowly withdrew his cock from Cas’s hole after that and flipped Cas over again to be facing him. Even that quick movement hurt.

Cas’s eyes met Dean’s, and the pleaded “ _Why, why would you do this, Dean?_ ”. Something had to be going on. Dean wouldn’t…

Another sharp pain besides the throbbing of his ass, Dean ripped the tape of his face.

“Dean?” Cas said one he found his voice and Dean was still there above him, looking at him as if he’d accomplished something important. “Dean?” Cas repeated, this time his voice ten shades thicker is desperation.

“That’s what trust feels like, Cas,” Dean said. He said it so simply, so much with  _his_ voice. So… so… unbelievable.

Then the hunter punched Cas hard enough in the face for him to see stars. Cas couldn’t reopen his eyes after that, and he heard the dull slam of the door. He wasn’t sure if he fell to sleep or into unconsciousness, but whichever, its arrival was greeted with open arms.

 


	2. Faze Me Unkindly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas wakes up blind and insists that he can dream away everything, yet still he has to face Dean.

Cas swore when he opened his eyes he was blind. Had he forgotten the mundane task of opening his eyes upon awakening? But he felt himself blink, and besides, this was much too dark for his eyes simply being closed.

He stumbled out of bed and sat on the floor, trying to make sense of everything that had happened without the luxury of sight. Blindly, he checked his body to discover he was somehow still in the clothes he’d been wearing the night before. That made no sense. He had such a vivid recollection of them being torn off...

And when he went to walk a prominent ache in his ass made him misplace his steps. He couldn’t see and walking hurt like hell. It was all causing him to start to panic.

He desperately wanted to call for someone to help him through this, for someone to be his eyes and help him into the other room. Sort out what the heck happened to his vision and how they were going to deal with it. But he couldn’t because Dean would… Dean could hear him. Cas couldn’t bear the idea of facing the hunter now… even if he didn’t have to see his face or his eyes.

Dean wouldn’t have done… done _that_. He wouldn’t have. Cas was sure of this, he was certain. It’d been a dream. A dream in which caused him this pain into his waking hours. That’s all it was. It couldn’t be real. Dean wouldn’t have done it.

“Cas?” Even though it was just the sound of Sam’s worried voice, the noise of it sent shivers down Cas’s spine.

“Sam?” Cas asked. He wondered if Sam could hear the crack in his voice. He also wondered if… if Dean was also there, waiting silently.

“Cas, are you alright?” Sam asked. He sounded like he was beginning to panic. Cas vaguely wondered if his bed showed remnants of the mess that happened last night. Logic would say yes, but for some reason he’d felt fairly clean when he’d faltered out of bed in the morning. Maybe all of his senses were dimming with the loss of his vision, but wasn’t it supposed to be the other way round?

“I’m…” Cas found himself pausing. He was nearly sure Sam would hear the dread laced in his next words. “I… can’t see. I don’t believe that’s normal.”

“No, no it isn’t. Cas, you’ll be okay. I’ll get Dean quickly…”

“No!”

“Cas?” He heard footsteps come towards him, and he would’ve retreated immediately if he couldn’t tell by the sound of the steps that it was still only Sam there. Still, he felt himself cowering.

“Sam, I’ll just go to sleep. It’ll be a nightmare,” Cas said.

“That’s not how it works, Cas. We should get you to a doctor. We can keep you safe and guarded while you’re there. This isn’t good,” Sam said. He was all reason while Cas was fine living in a world of irrationality. Wouldn’t that make this all go away? If he acted irrationally enough wouldn’t it all turn out to be an illusion in the end?

“It’s a dream… I’ll dream it away…” He’d even dream away the pain. He’d wake up and this, even though it felt so much like reality. But he’d like to consider himself delusional over facing the reality of what was happening.

He was broken beyond repair, now. And that wasn’t referring to his eyes. That was referring to the pain he was greatly trying to ignore and the memories of who had inflicted this pain upon him.

“Cas, you’re awake. Let me look at your eyes,” Sam said. “I can’t see any damage but just stay still.” Cas jerked away.

“It’s just a dream. Go away,” Cas said fumbling to get under the covers.

“Cas…” Sam said. He sounded very concerned now.

“Tired…” Cas commented. He just wanted the bliss of the painful nightmares to take him away from this reality. Sam finally left him alone and when he slept he could sleep, and in his dreams he could see the entire spectrum.

\---

“Cas! Cas! Wake up!” a desperate man yelled him back into realisation. He reacted to recoiling away in fright before even noticing his sudden gain of eyesight.

Dean. It was light now and the setting seemed infinitely safer, but somehow he felt as if it were the night prior again. Cas struggled through drowsiness up to try to scoot as far away from Dean as possible.

“Get away,” Cas said immediately. His tone shook and was much harsher than his usual boldness towards the hunter, but now all he could remember were the events of their last meeting. He nearly wanted to laugh at the shocked rebuff on Dean’s face.

“You can see?” Dean asked, now staying a few feet away from Cas warily. Cas cocked his head to one side.

“Oh… yeah, but wasn’t that a dream? Was it... was it all a dream?” Cas asked tentatively. But now that he was registering things around he could still feel the pain in his ass from something he now realised must’ve happened.

“No. Sam got real frightened. I’m glad you’re okay,” Dean said. Cas fought back the urge to ask Dean if Sam had gotten frightened by blood that must’ve been on the sheets, or the whole sticky mess. Had Dean cleaned that up when Cas’d been sleeping?

“Good to know,” Cas said shortly. A minute step towards Cas made the ex-angel flinch. “Stay away from me!” Cas snapped at the not-at-all intimidating gesture. He knew enough about mankind to know that what Dean’d done was wrong in any book, but it was pure instinct that he wanted the man as far away from him as possible.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” Dean asked. Cas furrowed his eyebrows. Well, what did Dean _think_ was wrong? 

Doubt should’ve been the only thing lacing Cas’s thoughts, with Dean’s obvious confusion and the pure solid fact that Dean would never _ever_ do that to Cas, but when Cas saw Dean in that moment, with his words sounding so similar to the ones haunting him, it was hard to stick with thoughts of denial.

“I wonder, Dean,” Cas said. He was even using sarcasm.

“Is there something I can do?” Dean asked. He seemed so kind there, so caring for Cas. Cas wondered if Dean had been completely intoxicated or something of the kind when he…

But his sentences had barely been slurred. Still, this was _Dean_. Cas didn’t want him forever far away. The distance now was too great, even if it made his heart race in fear and apprehension from the small proximity.

“Are you…” Cas swallowed his words painfully. They were going to be difficult to get out. Dean looked at him with sad eyes. “Are you sorry?”

In that moment Dean’s eyes morphed from sadness into pure spite.

“Why would I be sorry?” he asked. His voice held the more than a tinge of mockery. “You have a use now, Cas. A use to me,” Dean added. A sickening feeling gripped Cas from the inside out. It felt so purely _wrong_ , engulfing, awful. A use? Dean wanted Cas here just so he could fuck him?

Was there such thing as a second of pleasure without it coming back and crashing hundreds of times over painfully?

“You know what?” Dean added later, seemingly unnecessarily and randomly. At least some of that purely cruel mockery was out of his eyes, yet it was replaced with resignation. “Whatever, Cas. I’m going to get something to eat. I guess you don’t want to come with since you can’t even stand to be near me,” he said.

Well, whose fault is that?

Dean left after saying that, but he lingered near the door frame for a moment while staring at Cas, as if he could read the pain on Cas’s fallen face. He left after that, and it looked like he was giving up.

Would that mean Cas was going to have to leave?

Honestly, at this point, a very human part of him (that wasn’t really accurate in the scheme of things), was just praying that he'd never have to go through the pain of _Dean Winchester_ fucking him senseless without real consent again.

\---

Cas waited over twenty minutes after Dean left to get up. He should eat something. He should probably leave. Maybe try to become a hunter alone. Try to save some people after all the people he’d gotten killed. That sounded right. And who cares about how dangerous it is when he didn’t care if he died? Besides, he couldn’t find it in him to care about the value of his life when he should be dead. When he’d already died for someone worth loving, and now they, well, they certainly didn’t love him back.

He was certainly living on borrowed time. And it _hurt_. He would’ve packed and left that second if he was in any condition to be out walking stray in the real world.

So instead he went to talk to Sam (after grabbing a quick bite to eat) about any cases he could go on. Sure, he’d made a mistake. But Cas betted that both Sam and Dean had also made those mistakes before. Though Cas tried not to admit it to himself, much of his motivation probably included the fact he didn’t want to feel so completely useless around here.

He found Sam in the library, and the younger hunter smiled when he came in by him. Cas’s heart warmed at that. At least Sam cared for him. And after everything he’d done… as Dean had been an example of him loving someone without bounds, Sam was an impossible example of someone loving _him_  unconditionally. The pure thought sometimes seemed beyond his imagination, but somehow, even when Cas hurt him and betrayed him, Sam had still been there with him with forgiving arms.

“So, you have that sight of yours back?” Sam asked. Castiel nodded.

“Seems my vision is no longer impaired, yes,” Cas replied. Sam half laughed downwards.

“You were completely blind, Cas,” he said. Castiel shrugged.

“It’s better now,” Cas said. “Just had to dream it away.”

“Cas, you are aware that you can’t _actually_ dream your troubles away? I don’t have a clue what happened to you this morning, but it was not a common thing,” Sam replied.

“Sam, could you take me on your next hunting trip?” Cas burst in. Because it was rather random, Sam was taken by surprise. That had nothing to do with eyesight.

“You sure you’re up for it?” he asked.

“Yes,” the obvious response. The thing that was half a lie. Cas wasn’t ready to stay alive, not now; he wasn’t prepared for that. But he was definitely up for saving people’s lives.

“Okay, just making sure. You seem a little out of it,” Sam said concerned.

“Just… adjusting to being human,” Cas lied. “It’s not the most pleasant of experiences.”

“Everything will be alright, Cas,” Sam said. A bit of relief drifted through Cas’s mind. It was refreshing having someone say that to him. It gave the illusion that such a thing would be possible.

But what fazed Cas was the thing Sam added under his breath when Cas’s body had actually begun to relax. A quiet “Except you,” so quiet Cas barely heard it. He thought he imagined it, sure, he seemed to be imagining a lot of things lately, but it was still loud enough for Cas to, underneath the doubt, know it was real.


	3. Twisted To Insane Opposites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life continues ~ things aren't making sense to Cas.
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter basically is poor Castiel breaking apart beware of that.

Cas made sure to lock his door the next night, but apparently Dean had the key.

The sound of it unlocking alone caused Cas’s blood to spike. For some reason he felt as if he should be armed with a gun.

But this was _Dean._ Just Dean. Dean, who he’d fallen for so many times. He could trust him, right? Even if he used that trust so much against him? Even if he stabbed him in the back and… and…

Sam was wrong. Or, if what he’d heard was true, then he was _so_ right. Because everything was no okay. Not remotely okay. It wasn’t okay Cas was shivering and wanting to be so far away from Dean in that moment, to want to be armed so Dean wouldn’t sit on the bed next to him when Cas used to want Dean nearer.

It’s not like Cas didn’t _want_ Dean. He just couldn’t bear all of the pain of this.

“Dean, stay away from me,” Cas warned, fear thick in this voice. He felt nearly sure that that wouldn’t work this time. Not with the door clasped behind him and the entire household asleep. Even the footsteps sounded ominous. Dean was here for the reason he’d let Cas stay at all.

To fuck him.

What a stupid toy Cas was.

“You scared of me, Cas?” Dean asked as he took his boots off.

“You seem very frightening as of this moment,” Cas replied. Dean crawled up on the bed and got close to a cowering Cas.

“Don’t you think we’re both wearing a couple too many layers of clothes, Cas?”

“I think we’re good.”

“Don’t try to deny the fact you’ve wanted a few less layers of clothes on me,” Dean mocked. His grin grew devilish triggering a turn in Cas’s stomach. Well, it’s not like the Winchesters didn’t ever have clothes to spare. Dean could probably take off several layers and still be clothed.

Oh, who was he fooling?

“Dean, I don’t like this,” Cas protested as Dean got closer. His jacket already lay strewn on the ground and now he took off his plaid shirt as well. If the sight wasn’t so intimidating it would be beautiful.

“Oh, but Cas, I can see it in your eyes. Trust me,” Dean said. Now he was beginning to sound like a broken record. But how was Cas supposed to trust Dean when he’d gotten so hurt the last time? And that was just last night; Cas still felt to hollow and sore to go through that painful business again.

“I don’t care what you see in my eyes! Listen to what I’m saying!”

“How am I supposed to trust your words when you don’t trust mine?” Dean asked. He then launched himself at the ex-angel and Cas shrunk back. Dean managed to somehow get him in an armlock against the mattress. It was a struggle of strength and rapid, heavy movements in tangled sheets. Looks like Dean has had more practice at basic human wrestling than Cas has.

“Dean!” Cas protested once again. To silence him, Dean once again duct taped his mouth. Cas wondered briefly if he could somehow break through this tape without his hands, but he didn’t have much time to entertain the thought with his clothes viciously being torn off. Dean kept Cas’s face buried nearly completely in his pillow the entire time. Before he righted himself, Cas had struggled to breathe.

“You think of this all the time, don’t you?” Dean said. He was sitting on top of a downwards facing Cas now. Cas shook his head violently shortly before Dean pulled his hair. He leaned down close to say to Cas: “I altered a few choice details, though, didn’t I?”

Was Dean enjoying this? He wasn’t even doing anything! He was just fucking Cas’s mind over before he got to enjoy fucking his body. Was that truly necessary?

Dean ran his finger down Cas’s lower back and eventually to his ass. All the ex-angel’s muscles tensed up with the touch.

“You are so quick to give up trust,” Dean mentioned. Cas couldn’t help but wince. How could he trust Dean not to hurt him when he already had and he was obviously going to again? Cas might not be good at human relationships (platonic or whatever fiery, one-sided mess he had going on with Dean), but he knew that he couldn’t just blindly trust Dean to stop now when he hadn’t the last time, even if this time he was _crystal clear_ about his position on the matter. And that was to be neither top nor bottom position.

When Dean was finished teasing him, he began the terrible repeat of the day before. He seemed to try to be gentler this time, which was good considering how sore Cas already was, but without barely any lubricant it hurt like Hell, like literal Hell.

He wanted to scream Dean’s name, tell him to stop, tell him he can’t take this, not again, not after already being so torn open inside. But even if he somehow managed to plea with the hunter, he doubted Dean would pay any attention to him.

Dean actually tried touching him this time, trying to make it possible for him to come, Cas supposed. But there was no way that was happening when Cas was in such agony. As hot and heavy as he usually felt for the hunter, this was really a turn off. Dean’s futile attempts barely made him past hard when he truly wanted to be screaming in pain, not ecstasy.

Dean probably saw this and continued fucking him until a guttural sound from Dean’s throat and a clench of his nails into Cas’s back (where he was holding his arms in position) announced his orgasm. Dean pulled out of Cas, but this time he collapsed beside the ex-angel.

“Cas, you are a fucking brilliant fuck,” Dean said before ripping the duct tape off his face. It truly was a good thing both times Cas’s beard had been shaven.

“Dean…” Cas moaned. How was Cas ever supposed to make it past this? Was he even supposed to? Did he finally receive enough fucking pain to accommodate for his sins enough for him to die in peace?

“What, Cas? Do you not love me anymore?” Dean asked snidely. Cas managed to tilt his head while laying down and gave Dean the saddest look. Cas wondered how obvious it’d been that he’d been completely in love with Dean.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he replied, because he truly was. “But I don’t think I could ever stop loving you.”

That seemed to shock even Dean a little.

\---

With his exhaustion Cas actually managed to drift off before Dean got up to leave. Maybe the hunter was just going to lie there for a few minutes in bliss before walking away again, Cas didn’t know, but what he did know was those few minutes were the best thing about this awful experience.

In a half-conscious mind, Cas could pretend that it was all different. That he wasn’t in pain, and Dean was beside him because he wanted to be. Maybe they’re _both_ breathless from making love. Maybe Dean just wanted to stay by Cas.

The thoughts make Cas feel so hopelessly pathetic considering the fact that, in reality, Dean had pretty much just raped him.

Regardless, he half prayed Dean would get too tired and fall asleep here. Maybe fend off some of Cas’s never-ending nightmares, or, more likely, induce some more. That last thought didn’t stop Cas for hoping or it, though.

Dimly, through half-awake eyes, Cas registered Dean’s absence even though he’d never heard him get up and leave. It left him feeling cold as he fell deeper into sleep.

\---

When Cas woke up, he actually didn’t feel that bad. It was as if he slept off some of that pain. As he stood up, he actually felt energetic. It was somehow painless.

That couldn’t be a good sign. He was mysteriously healed.

He felt refreshed, honestly okay. He felt as if he’d had a nice sleep (despite the dreams… oh the dreams) and woken up brightly. Felt like he needed a good stretch, yes. But the room felt glowing.

He decided he’d take the feeling of pleasure while he could.

Sam was already up when Cas entered the kitchen, and they greeted each other pleasantly. It wasn’t till he was half way through eating he noticed that his clothes had been on him when he woke up.

It led him with an odd fantasy. One where the world was a little less dark, and Dean Winchester thought of him a little bit better.

Could he’ve dreamed the entire ordeal?

Was he dreaming now? Cas’d been on this earth long enough to know what the taste of air really was, whether it was necessary or not, and the feel of solidness and brush of reality. He was never more awake than now, and he certainly had felt part of this world, even if it the darkest corner, last night.

And the night before.

Dean came in the room later into the morning around tenish. He had a mug of coffee instead of a bottle of alcohol and something about that made Cas feel proud of the hunter. It was a little bit easier to be near Dean now than it had been the day before. Especially now, with them being on opposite sides of the table and Dean eating a burrito. Cas had been a little put off burritos after the taste of one turned to bile from the words Dean had said to him.

Cas never expected to be allowed back into Dean’s home human. He wondered if he’d have been happier if Dean never had. At least he’d still think better of the hunter.

“So, I got whiff of a hunt just down in Oklahoma. Sounds like a pretty basic werewolf case, guy’s heart eaten out of his chest. Lunar cycle’s right and all. Should be pretty basic,” Dean said. “Sammy, you up for it?”

“Yeah, Cas; you coming? Shouldn’t be that difficult,” Sam asked. Cas replied yes quietly and suffered through the astonished look on Dean’s face. The thought of spending several hours in a cramped car with Dean sounded horrible, but at least Sam could be there too. Dean wasn’t going to say anything that awful when his brother was there, right?

“How many more days for the correct phase of the lunar cycle?” Cas asked. Usually, he’d know a fact like that off the top of his head; it would just come to him, but not anymore. Not now that he was human. And as a human, he hadn’t even kept track of the date.

“Two nights. Should be simple,” Sam said.

“We’d just want to get it down quickly. Seems like, if it’s a lone wolf, he’s killing a person a night,” Dean added. Cas nodded in understanding.

“I’m ready to go whenever,” Cas pronounced. He hoped he could actually do well at this. After the last case… but Cas could’ve just sworn that was Dean there talking to him…

“We may as well hit the road,” Sam said. Dean shrugged.

“Already ate my power food. Silver bullets are in the car, along with plenty a range of guns for Cas to choose from,” Dean said. He actually smiled at him. Despite the illogic behind Dean’s actions, Cas found himself feeling warm from that smile. Dean’d broken something precious between them when he’d fucked Cas like that, when he’d hurt him and said all those things, but nothing was irreparable between them. Not when Cas loved Dean unconditionally.

Cas was beginning to think unconditional love just left him naïve and pathetic. But even so, after it all, Dean was still one of the very few things he still had faith in. Maybe no longer trust, but certainly faith.

They entered the garage full of classic cars and loaded into the Impala. Cas was actually quite glad he had to sit in the back because that meant he was farther away from Dean. Regardless of how much Cas had improved his attitude, he still didn’t want to be so close to the hunter. It made him feel nervous.

No one talked all that much at the beginning of the ride. Dean played some music off cassette tapes in the beginning but then seemed to get sick of it and turned it off. Sam talked over some boring details of what Kevin was learning off the angel tablet -all stuff Cas already knew and nothing important- and Cas seemed pretty invisible.

Despite his complete humanity and the growing time he’d spent without his powers, being confined in a car still wasn’t a pleasant experience.

“Cas, you’re awful quiet back there. Something wrong?” Dean asked. Cas bit the inside of his lip and tried to prevent the clear emotion and happiness Dean simply wondering how he was caused. It mattered to him a lot that Dean cared for him more than the awful shit he’d been pulling in the deep hours of the night.

“I’m… I’m actually doing pretty well,” Cas replied. He tried to wrap a smile in the answer, because heck, that’s how he felt, but somehow it ended up tainted with the pain he’d been going through. It was a good thing Ephraim was dead because Cas would be calling out like a siren right now.

He really was a burden. He wasn’t safe. Was being back at the bunker really worth risking the Winchesters? Dean let him stay there for those obvious reasons, but should Cas let himself if he’s so dangerous?

“I’m glad you decided to come, even if you don’t like being near me anymore,” Dean commented. Cas saw Sam react to the openness Dean was showing.

“Well, thanks. If you stop, I bet things could go back to normal,” Cas said all too quietly. He shouldn’t have said something like that. Especially not out loud in front of Sam as well.

Sam was the one to reply to that, though. Cas never expected those words to leave the younger hunter’s mouth.

“Back to what normal? Normal is you hurting us and screwing up with your “good” intentions. I’m sorry, I don’t want another end of the world, Cas,” he said. Cas took that blow best he could, even if he felt like he couldn’t breathe from it. Not like he didn’t deserve that. He just thought Sam, of all people, understood what it was like to screw up from meaning something well.

No one ever laid back on him about that though.

“I’m sorry,” Cas replied, his voice low and ashamed. He was remembering the cold of believing there was no fixing anything between him and the Winchesters, especially Dean. That he would forever be hated by the ones he loved so and was just trying to protect.

“I’m sorry but I’ve been through some facts in my head lately,” Sam continued. “You remember the ghost of Bobby you must’ve seen? He was killed by something to do with the Leviathans,” Sam said harshly. He didn’t mention any specifics. “Who _you_ let out. Dean may have forgiven you all happy in Purgatory, but, gee Cas, sorry doesn’t _begin_ to cover it.”

Seems like Sam had repressed some things too. Cas felt weak with guilt.

“Besides you guys, Bobby was the closest thing to a human friend I ever had! I never meant for him to be hurt!” Cas said. He said it fiercely for he wanted them to know just how much he meant this, if anything. It probably sounded more like hysterics. He would’ve taken all his actions back in a heartbeat if he had the chance. “I never wanted him hurt,” Cas repeated. He felt a ghost feeling of a hand on his. It was warm, but it was nonexistent.

No matter how hard he tried, nothing could be penance enough for all the awful things he’d done. What did it say about him that he just went and tried to forget?

When Cas blinked twice, his vision seemingly blurred and quaked. Once everything seemed back in focus, Cas could smell the distinct smell of mildew. But he needn’t worry about with that; it wasn’t sulfur.

“I say bullshit,” Sam said. Sam Winchester was a scary thing when he was mad. That bit of him that was supposed to be in likeness to the devil was apparent, and it made Cas want to hide. “Pull the car over.”

“Sam, we’re not that far away anymore. Can’t we leave this till…” Dean protested. Cas closed his eyes.

“Pull the goddamned car over!” Sam practically bellowed at his brother. Dean obliged and, from what Cas could tell, they were on some road in the middle of nowhere.

Sam got out of the car irately, slamming the door after him. He then opened the side door in which Cas was sitting and yanked him out by the band t-shirt of Dean’s Cas was wearing.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Sam said. Despite the fact Sam hadn’t drunken demon blood in years, Cas swore Sam’s irises grew a few shades closer to black.

Sam threw him onto the ground, and Cas tried to get up because he wasn’t some weakling. He didn’t have to be manhandled and hurt by these people.

“You’ve hurt us _so_ many times,” Sam said, shoving Cas back to the ground. With that Cas practically went limp. Sam was right. He deserved this.

“I’m sorry,” he practically sobbed. “I never…”

“Fuck your “good intentions” Cas. Because of you, there’s something wrong with me ever since the angels fell- you’re doing. I know you can sense it, Cas. Well, _it’s your fault_ ,” Sam said. He landed a punch in Cas’s face and it _hurt._

“I’m sorry,” Cas murmured again. He wasn’t trying to even get Sam to stop as another blow hit him straight in the face, on the nose. It felt like it broke, but Cas didn’t know whether it did or not.

“I never forgave you, Cas,” Sam repeated. He stood up to his full height after brutalising Cas enough for him to stay curled up on the ground and kicked him hard in the side. “No one ever did,” he added.

Cas couldn’t help sobbing “ _I’m sorry_ ” even when his brain nearly stopped registering everything around him. Sam finally stopped, and Dean came around to help him get Cas back into the car.

“Was that really necessary?” he heard Dean ask Sam. Sam purely nodded. Dean didn’t protect him or even tell Sam off. He just shrugged and tried to help Cas get back in the Impala. Cas tried to move, but it felt like every part of him had meant it’s part with a brick of concrete.

He must’ve passed somewhere along the way, because darkness filled his eyes. It was a hazy darkness. A numb one. Unconsciousness always seemed to be something Cas welcomed now.

He heard so faintly his dreams _“Sorry for what?”_ , which made no sense, but since when do dreams make sense? He also heard a faraway scream of his name from Dean. It was worried about him. It was probably going to be the only time Cas would enjoy the sound of Dean screaming desperately. At least, in this weird dream world, Dean was worried about him.

Again he felt those ghosts of hands on his. He felt them on his face too.

Warm and comforting, they were, unlike the embrace of Sam’s hard fist against his face or his boot walloping Cas’s spine.

Something vital inside Cas fractured because he knew he much more deserved reality so much more than this comforting dream, yet, with his mind absorbed into this other reality, he never wanted to wake up.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've thought of a bunch of plot points so this might be a lot longer than what I expected.


	4. Darker This Day Gets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going on a case with the Winchesters is not all it seems...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh I am a terrible person

Cas’s face stung upon being slapped back into cruel consciousness. All the comfort of that fictitious warm reality vanished when he saw the rough jaw and bright eyes of Dean Winchester above him.

“Ready to stop taking that nap, Princess? We’re there,” Dean said. His voice was harsh.

Upon trying to move, Cas nearly screamed out. His body was weak, but beyond that, it was purely sore and aching from the battering he’d received. He transferred any resentment he felt towards Sam into self-loathing of all he’d done.

Dean waited for a minute for Cas to get up, then sighed outwardly.

“Well, if you ever plan on getting up, lock the door behind you. We’ll be in room 6,” Dean said. He slammed the door and walked away rather angrily before reentering the old building, leaving Cas with the difficult task of moving his body.

All Cas had wanted was for Dean to offer him a hand. He’d been ridiculous to expect that much.

The pain seemed brutalizing, but Cas managed to make it out of the Impala and into the motel. He recognised the scent from earlier on, the one of decay. It encompassed his senses with the petrichor-like smell.

Even the simple task of walking hurt, and his weakened position caused him to be paranoid. If someone, or something, attacked him right now, he’d fight back awfully. He was burdened with these injuries, and that freaked him out more than the pain.

He was literally like an injury to the Winchesters. Well, at least now, before he’d been worse.

At least there were those times when he could’ve helped. There were the times when Dean needed him so badly Cas could pretend it was love. He could pretend that Dean was smiling in joy when he saw Cas when he’d seen Cas in Purgatory, not relief. He could pretend that all those things Dean’d said to him in prayer form meant something. Because if they could mean something, he could hold on to them as if they were tangible. He could live through this human life off that alone.

But every time his pathetic naïve brain allowed him to daydream about that, the cruel but rational part of his head reminded him.

He remembered the pain and humiliation he’d felt when Dean fucked him raw. Twice. How he messed with Cas’s mind. It was all unnecessarily cruel.

Cas should leave. He should leave now and never come back. Death is better than this. So, so much better than this. Than getting to feel hated by the two people he loved so much. But he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave Dean.

He made it into that dank motel room to face Sam and Dean. Dean was changing his pair of socks- it’d been pretty wet outside, they probably got damp- while Sam was cleaning out a gun.

His gaze towards Cas was full of more hate than he’d ever seen the Devil show towards anyone. It was terrifying. Sam Winchester was terrifying. And he hated Castiel.

He wished Sam would take a cocked gun now and point it at Cas’s head. Kill him. Cas had no idea where he’d go. Heaven? No, he’d never make it there even if he were confident he had a soul. Hell? Being an angel, that sounded absurd. But Hell was definitely where he belonged.

He wondered if his Hell would ever take a shift to resemble here.

“You look like shit,” Sam said rather coldly. Cas made no comment. He shouldn’t have come on this trip. If he’d known Sam’d hate him so, he would’ve just stayed behind with Kevin. He had just thought he’d at least have Sam. Not that he’d ever deserved Sam’s endless faith in him. Unwavering, quite unlike Dean’s.

But, then again, Sam had even been religious. Maybe that was the only thing keeping him even remotely okay in Cas’s mind, at least he was still an angel, no matter how fucked up he was. Now he’d fallen; oh, he’d fallen far. And he deserved all of this. He deserved to be the grime on Sam’s shoes.

“Should we…” Cas found himself with not enough self-confidence to speak eloquently now. “Should we try to find information? Know who the werewolf is?” Cas asked. Maybe he was just trying to break the tense silence that had fallen around them.

“You suck at that, Cas,” Dean said.

“I thought I was improving,” Cas replied.

“You’re not. I don’t know about all aspects of hunting, but talking to people will _never_ be your strong suit,” Dean said. Cas nodded. That didn’t need to be taken offensively. Not everyone was perfect, and that certainly was a weak point of Cas’s. It just hurt coming from Dean’s harsh tone.

“Could I give you a hand, then? I’ll try to let you do the talking,” Cas replied. He smiled at Dean to try to lighten the mood. Dean remained hard and cold. Distant. He looked like he could crush Cas in a second, and that fragility wasn’t something Cas was used to. Usually, he healed quickly. Usually, he could break Dean’s hand from the hunter trying to punch him. Usually, he didn’t feel so controlled by Dean. Or, not usually, rather it would be previously.

Previously he hadn’t really had a reason to fear Dean so. Because back before, he had trusted the hunter. Oh, look where that got him. “ _This is what trust feels like._ ”

He felt Dean punch him in the face. A hard compressed blow struck him on his cheek, Dean’s fist colliding with Cas’s already tender skin. Was he going to get beaten up again? This time by Dean? Would Dean actually beat him to death?

It’s not like Cas hadn’t nearly done that to Dean. But if Dean tried, there’d be a difference. Besides the fact Cas’d been controlled by Naomi, there’d be the difference in that Cas wouldn’t try to reason with Dean. He wouldn’t try to stop him.

But, then again, that would be because it was Dean. Cas would let Dean beat him to death. Because if Dean’d been the one out to kill him, what was the reason to continue living?

But another blow doesn’t come. It appeared to just be an outburst. Maybe Cas’s face had angered Dean so. Cas didn’t react with anything. Though the knock hurt, he could hope for it to go back to that. When Dean randomly hurt him sometimes, but otherwise they’d been good. That’d been beautiful. He’d been happy.

“Sammy? Explore the last crime scene with him. The victim was Richard Burnes. I’ll see who all he knows,” Dean organised. Cas nodded, but he saw the objection in Sam’s face before he declined that proposition.

“I don’t want to spend a second near him,” Sam said. Another blow to the chest. Cas found himself biting the inside of his lip. He tried to pretend that hadn’t stung him.

“Fine, I’ll check out the crime scene then. We better hurry, though, because if we don’t locate a suspect soon, we won’t be able to tell who the werewolf is after the lunar cycle’s over,” Dean said.

They left immediately afterwards. Dean didn’t say a word all the way to the crime scene.

\---

Apparently, Richard was a married man to a woman named Elisabeth, but he “didn’t love her at all”. She’d thought he’d had an affair. Dean’d suggested Elisabeth as a possible suspect, but Cas thought whoever this woman Richard’d had been sleeping with was more likely. Besides that, Richard had a few friends at some gym and was very antisocial at work, which he went to five to nine in a cubicle.

He didn’t seem to have any enemies, though. Maybe the attack was random, thought Dean. But usually, werewolf attacks aren’t. Usually, they’re based on primal instinct.

They met up with Sam at some diner in the town. Dean was intimidatingly close to Cas in the booth, them both on the same side, so close to touching, but yet they weren’t.

It used to feel like electricity and longing. It used to also feel warm and embracing. Now it felt utterly terrifying. Dean didn’t seem to want to sit opposite him, though. Maybe he didn’t want the scene of Sam not daring to sit close to him.

“Cas?” Dean asked. Sam hadn’t come yet and they were just biding time. Well, biding time meaning an awkward silence and Cas’s mouth so thick with the taste of chocolate that, no matter how much water he drank, wouldn’t go away. His vision started to split as well.

“What, Dean?” Cas asked nervously. Cas found himself digging his nails into his palm. Talking to Dean now was awfully stressful.

“You did good today,” Dean replied. “But are you okay?”

Cas blinked in shock.

“Thanks. I think I might be…” The world became filtered in a hazy purple. Cas shook his head, but his vision refused to change back to normal. Was this something humans had to get used to? Or was something wrong?

Dean made him too nervous to say what he wanted to. He wanted to finish that sentence with “I think I might be drugged”, but somehow his words didn’t pan out that way.

“Sick,” he said instead. A waitress asked Dean if he’d like anything, and Dean replied they were waiting for someone then turned back to Cas.

“That sucks. If you want, you can head back to the hotel. You didn’t have to come out with me today,” Dean said. “I mean…. Come here, with me,” he amended for some reason.

“Thanks, Dean,” Cas said. He felt a warm smile on his own face. He was going to get whiplash from Dean’s swinging moods.

“I mean, thinking about it, we should’ve taken you to the hospital ASAP,” Dean replied. “Still could, you know,” he added. But it was a good thing they hadn’t. Fallen angels probably would’ve leaped on the chance. Anyways, that was quite a while ago.

“I’m quite well from that now,” Cas replied. Dean shrugged.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, turning his attention to an entering Sam. Cas retreated as much as he could to unnoticeably get farther against the wall.

For some reason, Cas couldn’t get his vision to focus in on Sam. He took a second before he saw the glare Sam was giving him. Cas stopped his efforts immediately.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Couldn’t see right,” he replied absently.

“Whatever,” Sam said shortly. Quickly. Dismissively. “So, what did you find out about the vic’s life?” he continued on, ignoring Cas and speaking directly to Dean.

“Married. Probably had an affair. Don’t have the chick’s name though. Definitely werewolf attack though. Dude was shredded with just the heart missing,” Dean replied.

“I got some phone bills of who he’d been calling recently, since he didn’t seem to have much life outside of work and the occasional night out for beer with his friends. I got the records here,” Sam said. He pulled something out of his laptop bag. The details seemed fuzzy. Cas seriously did begin to wonder if he’d been drugged.

But, then again, he had temporarily gone blind. Maybe he was still recovering. It was hard to pay attention to the case.

“Lot of calls to someone named Fred Gaston. Best friend of his? His wife never mentioned the name. Besides that just some reoccurring names of some friends, I supposed,” Dean said while examining the document. “You think he’s our guy?”

“Yeah, well, I went to check him out. He’s some dentist at a kid’s place and swore he’d never heard of the man before in his life. The documents are legit, so I’m guessing he’s lying,” Sam replied.

“Is he married? Maybe his wife is the vic’s mistress,” Dean asked.

“No. Never been,” Sam replied.

“Maybe a dead end? Except, why would he lie? Maybe he was talking to the dude’s wife?” Dean seemed perplexed. Maybe it was just the social drama that he wasn’t quite used to. Cas was a little confused to because an obvious fact came to life that neither Sam nor Dean were mentioning, but he was a little afraid to speak up.

“Why are we assuming that this Fred isn’t Richard’s affair?” Cas asked. Was he missing something obvious?

With that hesitant hypothesis Dean froze. He didn’t reply.

“The dude was married, Cas. To a woman,” Sam said instead. Cas felt relieved when Sam turned to face him. At least he was worth that. Even if Sam’d only recognised him to tear down something he said.

“She said he didn’t love her. She suspected an affair. What if Richard tried to cut it off with Fred? Maybe he’d even gotten violent if Fred threatened to spread news of his affair with the man?” Cas guessed. He was on a roll, now; he couldn’t stop.

“You’re a freaking idiot. He was married. He was a straight man,” Sam countered. Dean still hadn’t said anything. Cas mentally told himself not to speak up around the both of them again.

“We should at least keep surveillance on him tonight? In case he transforms?” Cas asked.

“Well, it wouldn’t because he was fucking the victim!” Dean exclaimed suddenly causing Cas to shrink back.

“We should look into the other victims tonight,” Sam said.

“But what if he,” Cas paused. “‘Wolfs’ out?”

“Then we’ll have enough information to get him tomorrow night,” Sam replied.

“But someone could die!” Didn’t Dean usually care about that sort of thing? Was Dean changing? Besides just his outlook towards Cas?

That thought terrified Cas.

“He is our only lead, Dean. And you never know. Plus, some person claiming to not have known who our victim is when he obvious does? I think we should keep a look out on him,” Sam reasoned. And then he did something Cas wasn’t expecting.

Sam smiled at him. It was like he used to, with love. With joy and friendship.

It was nearly too much.

“I don’t think we should trust Cas’s word on the matter,” Dean put in. Cas was beginning to wonder why he was even still here.

“It _is_ the best lead we’ve got,” Cas said. Something told him he was right about this, but he was so awfully terrified he wasn’t. He still wasn’t sure if he ever should’ve spoken up from the lack of confidence he was feeling. He guessed that’s what happened when the people you love the most and are working with have raped you and bet you bloody.

“What about Elisabeth? She didn’t even seem that sad by her husband’s death,” Dean asked.

“I feel like…”

“Yeah, we should keep an eye on her,” Sam added. His gaze turned cruel towards Cas again. Cas’s head was beginning to hurt from all the changing moods and swinging perspectives.

“She wouldn’t hurt him!” Cas argued. He tried to not sound as unsure as he did. It was a point he actually felt stone set on.

“Why don’t you look after this Fred character, then?” Sam asked. “I didn’t want to spend the evening on look out with you anyways.”

Cas wasn’t sure how many more of these blows he could take.

“Okay,” he said. “Dean could you help me?” Dean gave him a kind of cruel smirk. It scared Cas. It shouldn’t. This was Dean. Dean should be reassuring.

 _“This is what trust feels like_.”

Cas couldn’t think of the unforgiving memories. They couldn’t nag him in a time like this. Had Dean planned so they would?

Pain.

That’s all he remembered.

But he had to trust Dean again anyways. It was _Dean_ for goodness sakes. Of course he’d trust him again, even if after that.

“Yeah, let’s stop by the motel first, though,” Dean replied. Cas tried to be relieved, sure, Dean was doing exactly what he’d hoped for, but some nagging fear stayed.

It was funny how angry it made him at Dean for not being able to trust him. Cas remembered when he’d made the decision to not trust Dean with the angel tablet. He remembered how hurt just that had made Dean. It made him angry that Cas would’ve honesty trusted him with anything in the world, and he went and threw that all back in Cas’s face.

Cas still was trying. He was trying so hard to get rid of the fear Dean was going to randomly hurt him, scar him, mock him.

But the problem was he kept on doing those precise things. Cas began wondering what he was even trusting Dean with anymore. It certainly wasn’t whether he’d injure the ex-angel.

Apparently, they were picking some things up at the motel before leaving, but Sam had already gone off to check on Elisabeth.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. Cas was trying to pay attention to everything, but his senses were so blurred. He couldn’t even trust his own body.

Maybe that was because it wasn’t his own.

“Yeah?”

“We have some time to kill before we go to Fred. He ain’t sleeping at 5,” Dean said. As Cas’s vision sharpened, he could see the hunter giving an evil grin before he launched himself at the angel.

They tumbled onto the couch causing a glass of whiskey sitting out to crash to the ground and a lamp to fall over.

Dean was on top of him. He looked like a predator.

Why did this have to happen even when they weren’t at the bunker?

“Dean, let’s just get back to the hunt,” Cas tried while Dean flipped him and pinned his arm behind his back.

“Why don’t we have a little fun first?” Dean aggressively ripped down Cas’s jeans.

Cas began to wonder if this was why Dean had went with him to check Fred in the first place. Well, if it ended up saving lives…

Anyways, he was going to learn to have to deal with Dean fucking him on a regular basis if he wanted to stay in the same vicinity as the man he loved.

“Dean,” Cas wheezed strainly. “My pocket…”

Dean shoved his hand roughly into Cas’s half-way down jean pocket to find a small container. Cas didn’t want this routine to destroy him from the inside out every day. Maybe he could even find some sick way of enjoying it.

Maybe it could turn into something less hideous. Maybe it could be…

Dean laughed cruelly but obliged in applying the lube. He did so carelessly and caused Cas to flinch, but the ex-angel knew it would be better in the long run.

There was no more preparation than that before Dean started fucking him. Usually Cas reacted silently, mostly because his voice had been muffled by duct-tape, but he couldn’t this time. His voice firstly reacted with screams which turned into pained groans.

Dean seemed to be rougher than ever before. Cas hadn’t know that as possible. He pounded into Cas with at least the lube allowing easier entrance. It didn’t hurt as badly, though. It was a terrible mixture of pain and pleasure, something Cas hadn’t quite been expecting.

He began to think the words Dean, and fucking him, and though that much seemed obvious they were only beginning to compute. Then it became Dean and having sex with him, and Cas was getting painfully hard, just trying desperately to imagine the circumstances as a prettier thing.

Dean pounded into him, and it felt good along with the familiar pain. This was Dean, his Dean, this was Dean. He didn’t want this to end, now. He didn’t want to stop being able to fool himself that this could be a form of proving one’s love.

Dean’s orgasm nearly caused him to come as well, and now he really didn’t want to Dean to stop. But the hunter had other ideas. Of course he would; he had come.

When Dean exited him, Cas was whimpering, shaking, pretty much begging for more. Dean turned him over and examined his face while Cas shook. Dean had already seen Cas broken apart, now he was seeing him come completely undone. Breaking, yet again, in front of him. It was pure humiliation. It was the worst thing.

Dean stopped taking in Cas’s shattering expression and lifted Cas’s shirt up. With the exposed skin, he dragged his mouth down Cas’s chest and stomach and lower…

He stopped before Cas’s erection and gave out a cruel laugh. The bizarre reality stung along with the pain and tightness.

Somehow he was still turned on; somehow he was still wanting it. But he hadn’t yet climaxed.

“I don’t blow dirty fallen angels,” Dean said. Cas was still slightly gasping. Dean’s jeans were still on, just with his cock out, and when he shifted his weight Cas moaned even more.

“Before we go, you might want to deal with that,” Dean added, motioning downwards, but now Cas was angry.

He was angrier than he was before. He was angry at Dean’s teasing and mocking and ridicule. He was hurt, so he was angry, and now he wanted Dean to know it.

He pushed the hunter off him; it wasn’t that much of a challenge. Cas wasn’t completely weak. He wasn’t fragile. He just broke easily.

“Go fuck yourself, Dean!” Cas yelled.

“I think you’re the one who wants to do that,” Dean replied, angering the ex-angel even more.

“I hate you. You can’t expect me to be your stupid fuck toy whenever you want. Get away from me. I don’t ever want to see your stupid face again,” Cas exclaimed. He barely meant a word of it.

“Gee, you’re angry when you’re horny. Too bad you’ll have to see my face again to work the case. Or are you so mad at me you’re willing to let others die?” Dean was still mocking him.

Nothing Cas would say seemed to make a difference.

“Fuck you,” Cas cried out at him before launching a solid punch at the hunters face. The compact didn’t hurt in the slightest, oddly enough.

“Actually, I think I fucked you,” Dean replied. Cas punched him again.

And another time.

Only then did Dean get the cue.

He walked out of the room laughing at the fuming Castiel.

As much as he didn’t want to do it, as much as he wanted to climax with Dean around him, or Dean pounding into him, with _Dean_ there, somehow, he instead got this.

He felt dirtier and more wrong than he’d ever felt before. He should never have spent millennia as an angel when someday he’d become this.

This was the farthest from Heaven he could ever get.

He tried to think of nice Dean, the Dean he’d known before he’d been so cruelly kicked out of the bunker. He thought of the Dean that needed him. He thought of how Dean had treated him before he became something that wasn’t for Dean’s complete benefit.

That Dean, that Dean fucking him. That Dean being gentle while doing so. That Dean clumsy and caring and…

That’s what Cas thought of as he came, causing a sticky mess he couldn’t will himself to clean up till a few minutes after collapsing.

After the feel of bliss, Cas felt emptier than he had in his entire long lonely existence.


	5. Are You Planning on Me Surviving?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets handcuffed, breaks out of them, and tries to finish the case by himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh... but the end

“ _Cas!_ ” A desperate call. “ _Cas! Wake up!_ ” A recognizable voice. “ _Cas!_ ” Why did he sound so scared?

Cas felt the trace of warm hands on his body. Were those echoes of the past? Of the other time he hadn’t woken up? Back when Cas sure, oh just so sure, that he was something precious to Dean?

But Cas wasn’t dead now. He wasn’t even unconscious. When he drowsily awakened, his immediate surroundings told him “ _Panic! Danger! Turn around!_ ”

Handcuffs. Had he been abducted? He felt their cold press against his now sensitive-to-touch skin. Upon opening his eyes, he could tell it wasn’t quite abduction he should be worried about.

“Dean?” he asked. He squinted at the opposing figure to make sure that this was true. He heard what he dreamed of Dean saying way in the back of his head “ _Thank God, Cas! I was so worried._ ” He was also deluded enough to feel a nonexistent embrace of Dean’s arms around him.

When, in reality, Dean was standing above him looking non-too-apologetic saying:

“Sorry, Cas. You’re just going to go after Fred and mess this entire case up.” “ _So you won’t get hurt_ ”.

“What time is it?” Cas asked. He tiredly moved his head to see outside. The dusk was descending, and the sky was a dustier blue.

“Late enough to want to catch up with Sammy. Solve this case proper,” Dean said.

“I won’t go after Fred,” Cas conceded. “I’ll follow all of your instructions. Let me come?”

“How about take this broken pipe,” Dean said, walking to retrieve something from another room. Cas was confused. “Shove it up your ass.” Dean paused to give Cas a mocking grin. “And come off that? Since you like it like that so much anyways,” he continued. He then threw the metal construction at Cas, who couldn’t stop it as it crashed into his body with both his hands handcuffed to… what was that? A non-broken pipe?

Dean then turned to leave. He was all the way to the door before Cas managed to reply to that one.

“You better leave me handcuffed when you come back!” he bellowed at the hunter. Dean turned to face him again. “Because the second you let me go, I am leaving, Dean. And I am _never_ coming back.”

Cas wasn’t sure if he could manage the cold and darkness of a world without Dean again. He wasn’t sure if he could find another job and sleep on shop floors and dream of seeing Dean’s face. Or maybe, now, have nightmares about it. But he was so angry now. He was sick and tired and felt so abused.

Cas had to blink away sleep from his eyes a few times because the light was fooling him. Tricking his eyes into sharpening and blurring his focus.

But, when he could see clearly, he was beyond surprised Dean’s expression was full of hurt and pain before he left.

Cas hadn’t thought he still could even affect the hunter.

\---

All that Cas could think of were words like _Hate_ and _Dean_ but he knew there was something much more important.

He still believed he was right about Fred. And Dean had been right when he’d mocked Cas earlier, he wasn’t mad enough to let other people die.

He tried to think of how to get out of handcuffs. Through watching humanity, he had seen many tricks of such a feat, but he knew that Dean was able to do it some way.

He had to get out of the cuffs. He had to locate that peaceful dentist in case he killed somebody. Maybe there had been nothing going on between him and Richard, it didn’t matter, he was too suspicious to ignore.

Through knowing Dean, he knew a little of how to hunt. He knew a little from his years as an angel. He could do this, even if alone. He just needed to.

Slipping out of them would be impossible, but there was this little cleft in the side…

He remembered something from somewhere about needing something narrow and long. Through examining his immediate surroundings he could tell there was nothing like that in sight.

But… on that desk, oh, what, six feet away? There was a jar of paperclips. Couldn’t Cas find a way to manipulate one of those for his use? The only problem was Cas’s hands were bound tightly behind his back, not just a wrist.

Cas extended them out behind himself and threw his left leg out. It was short of the desk, but with a little more stretching his body in ways it should not be bent, his foot hooked around the nearest leg to him and he yanked it towards him.

The contents fell on the floor, including the paper clips. Cas, after quite a few minutes of struggling with the bounds, managed to catch one and slid it towards him with his foot. He couldn’t exactly pick it up with his hands, so he had to maneuver it all away around for his fumbling fingers to try to grab and figure out what the heck to do.

In the end, it was a success, he managed to get out of the restraints Dean had put on him, but every second he wasted was precious. Someone could die because of his ignorance in how to escape something as simple as handcuffs.

Considering it was Sam who’d known where Fred lived, Cas had to figure out how to research that fact himself. He asked the cabby how to search something on the internet, and they let him borrow some crazy phone contraction whose homescreen read “Google”.

He searched Fred’s full name and the town they were in. It was a success. He read the address of to the cabby, and returned the phone.

It was already nine o’clock. Fred easily could’ve transformed by now.

Cas entered the premises of Fred’s small property with only a small silver dagger in hand. Dean had never given him a gun, but it wasn’t as if he was unpracticed in the arts of wielding a blade.

This one was much too small, much too light. It didn’t feel right in his hands. But it was all he had, and he hoped that it would kill Fred.

Knowing Dean, he was aware of how to break in. Should he stay in the Fred’s house until he transformed? And leave after sunrise if the transformation didn’t take place?

He tried to be silent, but silence is harder to achieve as a human with the shifting muscles and clumsy mistakes. When he found Fred, he knew his efforts needn’t have been necessary.

He was passed out over a desk with several empty liquor bottles around him.

“Fred?” Cas said, knowing that he shouldn’t be here, that he was already trespassing, but Fred needed help. “Fred?” Cas asked again, louder.

“Richard?” he asked.

“No, it’s Castiel.”

“Are you my angel?” Fred slurred. He was looking at Cas with drunken eyes now, as if he could just take Fred up to Heaven now and not face this world of pain. “Come to take me away?”

“What happened to Richard?” Cas asked. Cas didn’t have the power to deny that question.

“He… he died. He died fwhen I wassh… angr…” Fred was barely holding it together. He didn’t even seem to care about Cas’s trespassing.

“It’s okay,” Cas said, trying to say something he’d seen others use to comfort. “It’ll be okay.”

But Fred passed out then, falling right on his face.

“Fred!” Cas went towards the intoxicated passed-out man.

When he reached down to take Fred’s pulse, the pile of bones barely able to function a minute ago turned on him.

With wolf eyes.

Fred’s claws found their way to gash down Cas’s chest, ripping his shirt and the skin beneath. Cas gave a small noise in protest, then yielded his small weapon with unnatural speed.

He didn’t want to hurt Fred after what he’d just seen, but he couldn’t hesitate. And it wasn’t as if he’d never killed someone before to get at the monster within.

To get at someone in because is _family_ was within.

He managed to give a quick gash across Fred’s mutated chest, but not right in the heart. It angered the werewolf more, who, now, didn’t run off and decided to give a deep scratch on Cas’s left arm instead. Cas threw the dagger instead, now a few feet away bleeding intently, right into the werewolf’s heart. His aim was perfect; he hadn’t lost that much practice in wielding a blade.

Both him and the werewolf collapsed to the ground at the same time. He was bleeding quite profusely, and his body already had felt so weak. Somehow, he still hadn’t felt stronger than when attacking Fred.

Everything seemed a tad bit clearer through the pain. Even when Dean burst into the room, worried expression on his face.

“Cas!” Dean exclaimed. He seemed so scared at the sight of Cas on the ground, pool of blood forming near him.

He didn’t wait a second before running to Cas though. He didn’t hesitate before helping to try to stop the painful yet probably not fatal wounds. Cas didn’t know how he was here. He didn’t know why Dean had abandoned the case he was on so early on into the night to check up on the ex-angel he’d locked up. Or check Fred, whichever. Cas just knew that he could feel Dean now, and he was warm. He was clear. His figure and being made sense.

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he said. Cas held onto those words. They were important. They were essential. Cas just hoped Dean would let them stay. That he would let Cas forgive him for everything because the ex-angel knew he would.

Maybe he was dreaming, though, even if everything in the air tasted of reality. Even if it felt reality more than anything else, maybe that was the clue. Maybe it felt a bit too real. Cas questioned this all intensely because, right before Dean spoke again, he kissed the top of Cas’s head.

“We have first aid at the bunker. Think you can manage till there? I only have a few bandages in the Impala.” Cas nodded. He would be fine. It was just some bleeding gashes, nothing that would kill him. And nothing could really hurt him with Dean here, his presence so real and his embraces so comforting. Cas could be okay.

It was only with the sting of physical pain that he was capable of finding an ability to feel okay. His body felt worse than ever, being beaten and abused and now it was bleeding and it didn’t seem to want to stop. It wasn’t supposed to be battered like that. But it didn’t matter. The new blow could’ve been what granted him sanctuary.

It seemed that Dean at least cared whether Cas was alive or dead.

\---

Once they got to the motel, Dean started patching Cas up. He wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t cold or distant. He was kind and careful when he cleaned out the cuts on Cas’s chest and arm. His hands shook a little when applying the Neosporin onto Cas’s chest, but it wasn’t purposeful. Maybe he was just trying to be too careful.

It stung. It hurt. It tasted like pain and Earth and _humanity._ But Dean’s hands were steady and somehow they still felt safe. Even after they’d violated him and hurt him and smacked him across the face. That seemed like a dream now. It seemed hazy and distant with Cas so dizzy from the now, the intimacy, the buzz of Dean. It was as if Dean was still the Dean that had changed Cas’s mind on everything; it was as if he were still the Dean Cas quite literally fell for.

Sam even seemed warmer towards him. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Sam was concerned, and agreed that they should leave immediately. But that didn’t necessarily have to do with Cas; the case was over.

Cas slept pretty much the entire way back. Arriving back at the Bunker was sort of hazy, for Cas went straight to his room to sleep away these fresh injuries.

\---

Castiel was awakened by Dean’s yelling at him how he was a baby, and that he couldn’t spend all of his life sleeping.

He avoided Sam that day. Every time he came close, the hunter  either said something scarring to the ex-angel, or simply sent daggers of a gaze his way.

It was strange how the nicest people are the most capable of sending cruelty one’s way.

But avoiding Dean was very difficult.

“You avoiding me, Cas?” Dean ended up saying. “But you shouldn’t. Stand still. Trust me,” he said. Cas obliged in making his body rigid, but it was hard to stop some of the evident shaking. “Trust me…”

Dean elbowed Cas in his vulnerable stomach causing Cas to suck in a breath. His hands automatically went towards his stomach, but Dean caught one on its way there.

He laid it flat on the countertop beside the both of them and spread Cas’s fingers apart. Cas’s blood was racing, and all he wished to do was run away now and put this Bunker his rearview mirror, never to think of all these horrible things again.

But he’d somehow gotten to the point where the Winchesters were about all he loved on this Earth. When Dean’d hated him before, he’d tried to find other things to love, likes bees and flowers and the other great wonders of the Earth, but somehow it always led back to Dean.

And at least he thought he’d partially had Sam’s forgiveness then.

So Cas didn’t really want to live in a world where Dean wanted him dead.

Dean took out a pencil and started stabbing in between the gaps between Cas’s fingers sending little shocks of panic every time he came so close to stabbing one of Cas’s fingers with that sharp graphite end.

Even if Dean didn’t mess up, Cas knew he was going to get hurt at the end of this game. That was the point.

“Having fun Cas?” Dean asked. He looked up for a second and continued his motions, the sound of the marble counter against the sharpened writing utensil echoing ever so slightly. Cas was having a very difficult time not moving his hand. He was truly amazed he didn’t flinch away.

“Let’s mix it up,” Dean then said. He stopped his movement abruptly, the pencil falling lightly onto Cas’s fingers. Cas nearly collapsed in relief for the second before Dean brought out his demon killing knife. He pulled out a cutting board, and Cas was visibly cringing away from the thought.

His human hand, it just wasn’t made for cutting.

But Dean grabbed at it aggressively and slammed it onto the cutting board.

“Dean…”

“The point isn’t to hurt you, Cas; it’s to avoid hurting you,” Dean replied.

Cas began to see the light of this sick game. It required for Cas to completely trust Dean. And that was something Cas knew he couldn’t do because even if he could succeed, Dean wanted him to feel pain.

He seemed to also want to exploit every inch of trust that remained within Cas.

Cas separated his fingers as much as he could, and Dean began the stabbing. He started it slow, probably having to take extra time to be careful with Cas’s small little recoils. He sped up though, avoiding Cas’s fingers every time. Cas wished that the pain would just come, when Dean missed, whether accidentally or purposely, and he could feel the extreme pain, and could deal with it then.

Cas couldn’t move his fingers in flinching away now. Dean was moving too fast to take record of the differences in space. Cas half wondered if he had the power to snap his hand away extremely quickly, but he did assume that Dean would end up stabbing him.

“ _Trust,_ ” Dean had said. And Cas had trusted him. “ _This is what trust feels like_.” And Cas had encountered pain from Dean hurting him.

Trust, the blade goes too quickly for Cas’s panicking mind to comprehend. Trust, as Cas prepares for pain. Trust, the blade clatters against the wood without leaving a scratch on him. Trust, as Cas sighs in relief.

Over-intoxicating relief, that’s what it is. A breath. A second to recollect himself. The relief was rushing, was unmistakeably beautiful.

He shouldn’t have let himself off guard.

Relief wasn’t a luxury he deserved.

A sick parody of the night Dean and Cas first met, except this time skimming the heart purposely. And this time, Cas wouldn’t be able to survive the brutal attack.

Dean stabbed him in the chest.

Dean Winchester stabbed Castiel in the chest.

Cas was so in shock he couldn’t even feel the soon to be agony rippling from the attack. He glanced down at the state of himself, most of the blood staying within the wound from the plunging effect besides the initial blood.

There was a little pool around the knife forming despite, wrecking the white torn tee even more.

“Dean…” was all Cas managed to say. He looked up at the hunter, whose eyes were concerned.

The pain made it easier to think.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean asked. Cas gave Dean an incredulous look and glanced once again down to the knife sticking of his body. Unlike the night the first night they met, he couldn’t take the knife out this time. That would cause the blood to flow.

“Are you going to take me to the hospital?” Cas ventured. He was trying to find some excuse for the fact that this could very well be Dean effectively killing him.

Cas was surprised the dagger sticking out of him didn’t hurt more.

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Dean replied. That was enough to make Cas shake. His balance wobbled, and he left the room to a more open room with a coat rack off the ground. Nothing was hanging on it; Dean had probably just put it there for things to feel homier. Cas gripped it tight for balance.

“Cas?” Dean seemed concerned.

“You…” Cas was finding it hard to speak through the pain he was distantly starting to feel engulf him. The words were also quite hard to make out. “Stabbed me.”

Just pointing out the obvious. Cas was just kind of still in shock.

“No!” Dean exclaimed suddenly. Cas looked at the blood staining his shirt and the weapon Dean had used.

“If you’re going to let me die, can you at least let me know it was you? Don’t make me feel like I’m crazy,” Cas said. Because he wasn’t. There was no way had lost his mind. ( _94%..._ ).

“Cas…”

“Why, Dean? Why did you have April bring me back to life just to kill me yourself?” Was it because Dean had believed back then that Cas hadn’t been completely human? Is that why Dean used the very same weapon he had that first time?

“Cas, I didn’t stab you. You have to believe that,” Dean pleaded. Cas glanced down once again. He was surprised he was capable of holding a conversation, considering.

“Then I hallucinated you stabbing me with this? If you regret it, please just take me to the hospital. I might not die if I get help immediately,” Cas replied.

His commenting seemed to make Dean mad.

“Cas, I didn’t hurt you! There’s no knife near you!”

Cas didn’t know how to respond to that.

He also didn’t know how react to Dean reaching towards the knife… was he going to pull it out? Let Cas bleed to death right in front of him? Dean never got a grip of the knife, though. Instead he grabbed the air three inches to the right and yanked at nothing, the knife still glided out at his action.

Now blood was really forming. Cas’s hands were futile in the attempt to stop the flowing. Another small “ _Dean…_ ” came from his mouth.

Dean grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him, his eyes fierce and furious and terrifying. Cas barely moved in his rough grasp.

“Dean… I understand. Just… let me die now…” Cas muttered. He just wanted to sit down on the ground; his head was getting extremely dizzy.

“You’re not dying!” Dean exclaimed. He shook Cas again. Cas wondered if Dean’s hands tightly gripping him could keep him holding on to life any longer.

“I’m sorry I had to have been human…” Cas’s voice was fading. Last time to make apologies; last time to be incapable of making this mess right.

“Cas, you’re scaring me!” Dean ripped one of Cas's hands away from the wound and shoved it with a few inches of Cas’s face. “There’s no blood here!” Dean was pretty much screaming now. He sounded desperate.

Cas’s brain wasn’t functioning fast enough, but Dean was giving him time to take in the site of his clean hand in front of him. Slowly, the image started to make sense, and he looked back at Dean.

“You didn’t stab me?” The site wasn't making much sense. He needed clarification. He couldn’t get his hopes up, feel that relief again. It ended in things that caused him pain and actions he didn’t know how to forgive with ease.

“No!” Dean’s cry of denial was verging on desperation. His hands went slack on Cas’s body, but their weight remained, keeping Cas feeling safe. His next words were quieter, softer, and possibly, even more desperate. “Why would you ever think I’d do something like that to you, Cas?”

There were some tears forming in the corners of Cas’s eyes, and he absentmindedly wondered if Dean would slap them away or ridicule him for them, but one look at Dean’s sad eyes made him think that was a very unlikely possibility.

He couldn’t help the next words from sliding from his mouth. He had to test this because, after what had just happened (what had just happened?), he had no idea what really was reality. And that was a problem he never had before.

“There’s been a lot of things you’ve done lately that I never would have expected you to do.” Cas’s voice was small. He didn’t really wanted to bring that up now, not with Dean so close and the slight embrace that was his hand still holding Cas steady making him feel warm and safe as opposed to…

“I’m…” Dean stuttered. Apparently, he wasn’t sure how to reply from that. “Cas, I’ve just been trying to keep you and Sam alive. I know that’s no excuse, but you have to believe me,” he stated. He sounded so sincere, but the answer seemed weak considering all the so unnecessary things he’d done.

Now there were tears in Cas’s eyes. He was too weak to stop them.

“I don’t believe you,” he said. He looked down at his chest again. The blood wasn’t even there anymore. Had Cas hallucinated that entire thing? Maybe he waiting for the denial of everything that made him want to die, to believe everything that made his life worse than nothing to be some sort of hazy dream.

“I know I kicked you out and I know I… I handcuffed you. Cas, you were freaking out, man. And you were so insistent on the case. I just wanted you to be okay. You weren’t in any state to hunt.”

“I wasn’t in any shape to hunt just because I didn’t agree with you?”

“Cas, you were muttering to yourself and weren't responding and, well, it was terrifying. What else was I supposed to do?” Dean smiled down. “Didn’t know you’d be able to escape handcuffs. They were even behind your back,” Dean said.

He sounded proud.

That tone wasn’t one he’d heard from Dean in a long time.

“Have I been hallucinating?” he finally asked. Handcuffing him was one thing, but… well…

The others?

He remembered so clearly Dean fucking him senseless, and his inability to scream from the tape on his mouth. He remembered the unnecessary cruel words and the pain and hatred and, well, he didn't know how to deal with the possibility that he hadn't been living in reality.

It had been too real.

"What has been happening?" Dean asked. Obvious question, compare the realities, see if Cas's dreaded one was true.

Also making him have to confess to the things Dean did that ended up with him feeling so humiliated, so worthless, so much like nothing.

He didn't want those words out of his mouth.

"You hurt me," was all he could admit to. Even that was enough to cause Dean's entire face to fall.

"I'm not claiming innocence," he smiled bitterly. "Couldn't ever do that, but I was trying to help. In everything I did."

"You kicked me out onto the streets then visited me to leave again," Cas started. That part he could choke out. That part, that part was coldness and pain, but at least, at least he'd been able to fool himself it was just to keep the Winchesters safe, even if he knew it wasn't true.

"That," Dean swallowed roughly. "Yeah, I did do that. I'm sorry, man. Sorry," Dean said. Cas was trying to keep his mind from fraying.

"I was tortured by Tronniel, and when I returned to you battered you let me in," Cas stated. He was reciting the easy parts, the parts before that night.

"Cas..."

"Dean, I don't want to say any more," Cas conceeded, feeling weak. Feeling unsure if this would mean ridicule or further hatred.

But instead of random slaps or painful twisted limbs, Dean pulled Cas towards him in a hug. Warm harms around him, Dean's face pulling so close to his. He couldn't make his own arms do anything, so he just stayed still, memorising the feeling of this while he was still permitted the luxury.

"Whatever's happening, we'll figure it out, okay?" Dean said. He pulled away, but his hands were still on Cas's arms, giving some reassurance and pressure. "We'll find some way. Just trust me," Dean added.

And that was about when Cas's heart sunk, and he felt every inch of that desperate disappointment he'd earlier tried to shield himself from. He pulled back but didn't find a way completely out of Dean's arms.

"I'm not going to do that," he said quietly, but Dean was close enough to catch the confession aimed towards him.

"What? I just mean finding out what's happening to you, Cas. To help you," Dean clarified. Shocked, and, honestly, looking rather hurt from Cas's words.

"I'm not going to trust you," Cas said instead. He just couldn't do that again. Was this some stupid mind game Dean was playing with him? To make it all be so much worse later on?

"Cas..." Dean honestly sounded pained. "Oh.. okay. But, just, know I"m going to find a way to help you, okay? You're going to be okay, okay?" he rephrased.

Despite himself, Cas nodded. Even though he knew that he was trusting the hunter _again_. Even though he knew how this story ended. Maybe he just had to hope that this was something different. Maybe he could pretend it was reality long enough to make whatever was coming worth it.

He choked the next words out.

"What about Sam?" Cas asked. He shouldn't have. He shouldn't be setting himself up for painful realisation so much.

"Well... he'll be trying to help too."

"Why would he?"

"Because, well, why wouldn't he? Of course he'd care, Cas.

"He doesn't hate me?" Dean looked at Cas as if he were crazy.

"No," he said as if the thought was amusing. "Hey, Sammy, get over here," he called across the bunker.

"What, Dean?" Sam replied as he walked in the door.

"Do you hate Cas?" Dean asked.

"Dean..." Cas didn't want to hear these words coming from Sam directly.

"No, Cas why would you ever think that?"

Cas squinted in confusion. Had he hallucinated everything? Sam's face read in the expression on Cas's and some sort of realisation hit.

"Is this to do with his spasming and ignoring us and... all of that?" Sam asked. He sounded worried.

Worry wasn't a tone Cas had ever been expecting from Sam Winchester again.

He saw Dean nod and looks of concern mirrored on both of their faces.

For a second time Cas felt over-intoxicating relief, and he absentmindedly wondered when he would get stabbed this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update! I've been so busy I haven't had the time to write. Also, sorry for any spelling mistakes I had read over it a few more times, but my improvements got deleted and I was too lazy to do it again.  
> (Word isn't working so no spell check :/)


	6. The Opposite of Truth Won't Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas accepts that he had been hallucinating and tries to deal with the struggle of not knowing what is real and not, while Dean does not make that much easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone should really stop me.

Castiel had to believe that Sam and Dean were telling him the truth.

He had to believe that it was simple hallucinations when no pattern was broken, as both of them continued saying cruel things to him and occasionally backhanding him and hurting him.

He had to believe that they weren't actually doing it. He just had to.

Could none of those awful things have been real? Could it all be some sort of joke played on him? And when would it stop, when would he be able to be certain it was really Sam giving reassuring talks or a fist to the face? It was always switching now, and Cas had no idea how to stop it.

If it were all true, the real Sam and Dean were researching how to help. They were trying to help him and make this all better.

Dean started backing off from Cas, sensing the angel's continuing discomforting with their proximity. It had taken Dean two days to start avoiding Cas when they were close, and that in itself was the only hint of whether it was actually Dean or his mind making up a Dean that did nothing but act cruel towards Cas.

Despite how awful this felt, Cas felt comfort in the space Dean allowed because whenever he looked at the hunter all he could visualise was the cruel demeanor of those nights, the nights the real Dean must never know about.

Because it had felt much too real. Scarily real. Scarringly real.

Dean started drinking again, and Cas is nearly sure that it was actually Dean who was binging alcohol midday by the distance so large between him and that version of Dean.

It was beginning to get really hard to tell when something was real or not.

Sam was easier to tell the difference. In reality, Sam would make sure Cas was feeling okay and checking up on him and telling him they were searching, that everything would be okay, while the Sam, the Sam Cas’s sick demented mind was twisting him into imagining, would deliver the cruelest lines, the worst reminders. It was so terrible hearing those words from _Sam Winchester_ , the boy with the ability to fight off effects of demon blood.

But Dean, Dean was more difficult to tell. He hadn’t gotten beaten down by the sick mirage of the hunter in a while, which he supposed was progress, but honestly he knew this couldn’t last much longer.

Because Dean was drinking again because of him, and that couldn’t be right. Cas was stressing Dean out with him flinching away when Dean got too close and recoiling when Dean spoke too loudly towards him. It wasn’t right. Cas had no right to be here and cause Dean these inconveniences.

It wasn’t until nearly a week after Cas learnt about the situation (hopefully truthfully) that Dean and he had any real contact again.

The smell of alcohol lined his breath when he got far too close to Cas for the ex-angel’s liking. Cas first thought that there was no way this was actually Dean, and that his grace period of relaxation from continuous abuse was over, judged by the diminished distance between him and Dean. It was utterly terrifying, and the thought alone somehow made Cas feel near the edge of tears.

He was visibly squirming under Dean’s gaze, and he could see the hunter’s pained expression at those small actions.

“Why is this happening, Cas?” he asked. Castiel was actually surprised by the lack of slurring in the words. “Why does it have to be me hurting you?”

“I don’t know, Dean. It seems to just be sending me into my worst nightmare,” Cas tried to answer honestly. _It just seems to want me to break._

“I’m… Cas, I’m your worst nightmare?” Something in alcohol was opening Dean up to vulnerability.

“Dean… no, I don’t think it’s like that…”

“We’re getting nowhere, Cas. We don’t know how to fix it. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop myself from hurting you in your mind, I can’t.”

His words were definitely slurring now.

“Dean, stop it. This isn’t _your_ fault. I’m just…” _in love with you_ , words he couldn’t say. “It’s taking the things I care for the most and twisting them,” he explained. “Just taking your light and turning that dark. It’s nothing to do with you. Nothing.”

“Really, Cas? Do you not think me capable of any of those things?” Dean asked. Cas wondered what Dean assumed even happened because Cas surely hadn’t told him.

“Of course not, Dean. You are a wonderful person,” Cas replied. He tried to give Dean a smile, but a look of anger lit up in Dean’s eyes which nearly caused Cas to flinch.

“Really? You’re a bloody liar, Cas. You were convinced earlier. You thought I would’ve _stabbed_ you. And that makes sense. You know how bloody corrupt I am. You’ve seen it,” Dean said, his words containing enough fury to make Cas feel extremely uncomfortable. Was this really Dean?

“I was disillusioned. I’m sorry… it, it had become hard to trust my judgment.” _Hard to trust anything._

“It’s because it’s in me, Cas, those things. Those dark actions. I belonged in Hell and you undid that. That doesn’t mean I didn’t belong there,” Dean said.

“Don’t you ever say that. Ever.”

“You obviously don’t know my mind. I think this thing’s feeding off my darkness, Cas. Using it as fuel.”

“So Sam’s evil too?”

“Sam’s Satan’s vessel. That’s all that is.”

“Dean you’re wrong.”

“I’m not the delusional one.”

Dean must truly not know the extent of the things that had transgressed. His eyes were locked with Cas’s intensely now, as if he could make Cas submit to anything, even the crazy idea that Dean was evil and belonged in Hell, just with his eyes.

Or maybe it was willpower just trying to refuse to break that Cas was witnessing. Dean’s will was an extraordinary thing which was hardly ever broken, and Cas had seen it in so many forms.

But this was the first time he’d seen it break for him, right in front of him.

Dean close the space quickly and grabbed tightly onto Cas’s shoulders while he slammed his face into Cas’s. The action was rough, but Dean was careful enough not to hurt the angel.

Cas would’ve been recoiling. He would’ve been in horror. He wouldn’t been close to the verge of tears just from the broken prospect that this definitely wasn’t Dean, if it wasn’t for the pause.

Dean didn’t ask Cas if he was enjoying this, with the switching of their bodies done all by Dean in his hasty movements Cas was pretty much pinned against a wall. So why wouldn’t Cas think this was just another hallucination?

As much as Dean wanted to prove how cold he was, he wouldn’t hurt Cas. He paused, his face now inches apart from Cas’s, drinking in the view. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t speak a word. He just paused, his grip slackening. Cas was mesmerized.

The amount of time passed was microscopic, in fact Dean probably wanted it to go disregarded, but the effect it had on Cas was colossal.

After that it was desperate limbs again, clinging to each other for life. Cas felt his cock already hardening with Dean’s hands under his shirt, Dean’s lips tracing up his now exposed skin after that shirt was off. Dean’s chest, a sight he wasn’t used to even after being fucked by the hunter so many times.

Cas pulled away at the memory, repulsed and horrorstricken. Dean saw his distain and pulled away immediately. That in itself was enough proof to show that this was him, and this was real, and this was Dean wanting him in reality.

Cas was terrified this meant his nightmare was coming to life, but the possibility, even if so slim and the likeliness being so daunting, that this might be Dean wanting him the way he wanted Dean, caused him to continue kissing Dean up his neck, Dean responding immediately.

How could Dean wanting to fuck him be a good thing? Even if Dean was, in this idea of reality, kind about it, how could it be a good thing? How would the idea that Dean wanted to use him as a tool to satisfy himself ever be something Cas wanted? The idea itself made Cas feel a little sick, but his own urges made him continue. They made him foolish enough to convince himself that this could be some sort of form of love, and that Dean cared for him, that this wasn't his own terrible nightmare turning to reality.

Because he loved Dean more than anything. But oh, that didn't mean he didn't _want_ Dean. He _wanted_ Dean inside him, to come inside him, to be just be close. He wanted the feeling and the impossible completeness and he just plain out wanted _Dean._

For a slight moment he remembered Dean was supposed to be straight.

"How do you make me want you so badly?" he half groaned at Dean as the hunter tugged at Cas's jeans, or, rather, Dean's jean's that Cas happened to be wearing.

"I've twisted you that much up," Dean replied. Cas wanted to deny that answer, but Dean made him forget it quickly as the hunter's hand found their way around Cas's dick. Cas wasn't sure if he would be able to hold out more than a few minutes in these hot circumstances. Dean took his hands out of Cas's loosed pants to help remove them, which he did ever so gently, something Cas was very not used to. He was used to fingernails against skin and scraping, but no, this was completely painless. Dean continued to take his own pants off, but Cas couldn't find it in him to help in fear he would do something wrong.

"I'm going to fuck you," Dean said rather coolly, but there was enough passion and longing in his voice to fool Cas into believing this was still something different than what he had experienced before.

He wanted to stand up and tell Dean to back the fuck down, but his erection was painful and he just couldn't stop the fact he _wanted_ Dean to do that.

"What if I want to fuck you?" Cas said, his voice even more gravelly than usual. Dean looked a tad surprised, and, if Cas could read him enough, bashful.

"Then go ahead and do it!" he ended up replying after a minute. Cas felt awful for feeling the urge to test him.

"Actually, Dean. I want you to fuck me," Cas said in return. Dean looked a bit confused. "Let's go into my bedroom, though. Though Sam might hardly ever go here..."

Dean looked as if the thought hadn't ever even crossed his mind. He was completely dazed. Was _he_ going to snap back to reality? Instead of duct-taping his mouth shut while he raped Cas, would Dean actually turn him down and hate him for even considering sex with him?

But he followed Cas as if in a trance to the ex-angel's room. Cas got out the lube he'd hidden in his drawer in case... of well. In case of more violent versions of this.

Dean prepared Cas's hole with care to the point it didn't even feel like pain. When he entered into Cas to begin fucking him, it didn't even really hurt. He could tell that Dean was being rough, maybe purposefully, but it didn't really _hurt_. He wasn't being broken.

He craved more. He craved more and more and more and came so hard the pleasure completely riveted throughout his body. He groaned Dean's name as he heard Dean say his when the hunter came with him.

Dean exited him and fell beside him, breathing heavily and in as much bliss as him.

"Cas, I love you. I love you so damned much," he said, and for a second Cas couldn't compute. Dean... _loved_ him? Despite the fact he knew there was some flaw, that he was just saying it because of the sex they just had or some guilt he felt, Cas couldn't feel anything besides bubbling happiness.

Those words were more than he'd ever wanted to hear from Dean Winchester. Hearing them, he just let himself believe they were true.

He thought it was so obvious he reciprocated he forgot to reply back.

\---

Cas was drifting out of consciousness before Dean truly snapped back to reality.

"What the hell just happened?" he asked sitting up. A certain lurking dread started its way into Cas's stomach. Cas sat up too to face Dean.

The sight of horror on the hunter's face was not very reassuring.

"If you are still Dean, we just had sex," Cas informed him. Dean just looked more perplexed. He looked to be panicking.

"No... no no no no no..."

"Dean, you don't need to worry about it. It's just me," Cas reassured him.

"You're still doing that whole hallucinating thing, right?" Dean asked. At Cas's nod Dean continued with, "Well, you are now. You have been this entire time."

Being human now, Cas had difficulty hiding the hurt on his face.

"You're lying. I could tell it was you. I know you were there. I know it," Cas said. This, he was sure of, this he knew was factual. Dean had been so different then than in any of his hallucinations. He knew it was reality. Dean said he loved him. How could that be false?

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked maliciously. Cas squinted at the hunter in confusion because this could not be happening. Not now. Not after believing things were so beautiful, so good. Dean couldn't do this. He couldn't go and deny that it even happened.

"You're kind. You're good, Dean. You..." Cas couldn't make him say _you care about me._

Dean then punched him in the face. It was his cheekbone, probably the best place to be hit in the face, and Cas could tell it wasn't full force, but it stung and hurt because he was no angel any more anymore, and this was violence.

"Dean!" Cas gave out. He didn't take the time to question if this were real. Somehow he just knew it was. He couldn't be certain, but it just felt so.

"I'm so kind, Cas?"

"I know this is you! Just stop, okay. Just stop." He didn't want to go through this all again. He couldn't.

"Why? What would I be doing if it wasn't me? Which, it isn't. You can trust me on that," Dean said.

"Well, for one you wouldn't be saying you loved me. You'd be saying you never would. You'd being saying things about how I'm nothing to you, not really."

Cas could be certain it was Dean by the open vulnerability and pain in his eyes upon hearing that, but that didn't stop Dean from returning with an answer Cas didn't know how to sort out.

"You're just delusional enough to believe I meant that, aren't you?" Dean said with his voice envenomed. Cas didn't miss the tears Dean was fighting back. What was even the point of this? Was Dean really that against having sexual intercourse with him? They could ignore it, Cas could deal with that fine, but to go and... and do this?

"You're not fooling me," Cas said. "Stop it, Dean, just stop."

"Cas," he could even hear a bit of a catch in Dean's voice. "Who could love you? You killed half your family and destroyed the other half's home," he said.

This wasn't going to work. This... this wasn't going to work. Didn't Dean see Cas'd gone through enough pain already lately to deal with this too?

"This isn't real, at least. Cas. It's not real," Dean continued before punching him in the stomach.

"Don't you think you fooled me, Dean Winchester. Don't you think you fooled me for a second," he said after a noticeable grunt in pain.

"You believe your Dean would do this?" he asked.

"I have to believe the evidence," Cas replied. And then he thought for a second.

He seemed to be a glutton for pain if he actually did this.

"If this were a hallucination, I would be bleeding by now," Cas said, testing Dean. He slowly watched the panic to quickly rise in Dean's face. Would he see now to stop? To just not mess with him like this? He was making Cas even more unsure of reality if it weren't for the fact he knew this was truly real.

It nearly was too cruel for Dean.

That was when Dean took out a small knife. Cas's eyes widened immediately, and he realised he'd never expected Dean to actually do something like this.

"Dean, I know this is you. Just put the knife away, okay? Dean?" Cas asked. He backed up off the bed to increase the space between him and Dean. Dean followed with unsure movements.

He managed to slice a nice long cut into Cas's arm, the skin being very exposed. Dean seemed to notice their nakedness and slipped into some jeans, but Cas didn't feel up to it with his mind on fire with the message blaring in his head _pain! Cas this is pain! your vessel is injured and now you get to feel how truly bad that is!_ while drips of blood landed on the bedroom floor.

"Happy, Cas?"

How could the fact Dean just cut him make him happy?

"Dean Winchester would never have sexual intercourse with me or love me. I got it. This isn't real," Cas said, his hand trying to stop the blood flow. The cut wasn't so small. He didn't believe for a second what he said was true, but he wanted Dean away from him, now. He didn't want to fight anymore. He'd been foolish to think he could carry out this battle. "Now _go_ ," Cas yelled at him.

More proof this was all true; Dean did leave. He left quickly and hastily, just grabbing his shirt quickly on the way out. He forgot his boxers.

Cas slipped into some clothes quickly too so he could go out and clean his wound up. The funny, terrible thing was, Dean was there, asking what happened, asking if it was because of Cas's hallucinations. He acted as if he was innocent when he cleaned the smallish gash up.

He wasn't fooling Cas.

And as Cas felt the sting of alcohol to disinfect and the shaking of Dean’s hands, he was completely aware that it was all Dean Winchester’s fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is too much sex in this story.


	7. Pray Away the Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas receives a little reminder of what happened that day he was tortured which leaves him with a risky lead to how to fix his dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~connecting chapter :)

 "Cas got physically injured from a hallucination!" Cas heard Sam bellow. It was close to midnight according to the steel old-fashioned clock, but the Winchesters appeared to still be awake.

Cas had been awoken by his vivid nightmares. He'd gotten once again stuck in the repeated cycle of the past, of when he had those souls and Leviathans, and when he had gotten them out. He supposed the hallucinations made them more lifelike. It had certainly been all too lifelike.

"I _know_ he has a cut; I helped patch it up, but that does not mean he necessarily got it from his mind," he heard Dean reply.

Dean was apparently lying to Sam again about him. Something told the ex-angel that this time it had nothing to do with Sam's health.

"We have to fix this. We have to, and we have to soon," Sam replied. Ever since the haunting memory of Sam beating the crap out of him and Cas thinking he'd finally lost the faith of the younger Winchester, hearing the sound of him caring has mattered so intensely to Cas. "Do we even know how he got it?"

"No idea."

"If only he hadn't _left_. Maybe then we wouldn't have this problem," Sam said frustrated. Relievingly, there wasn't any anger in his voice.

Cas wanted to go in there, to go reassure them in some way. Say that he was okay? Well, that wasn't true. And obviously the injury on his arm mattered more than the ones all over the rest of his body.

Cas also wanted to relieve Sam of the idea that he was being physically effected in reality because it actually had something to do with the fact it had been in real life where Dean cut him. Cas felt certain about that.

"Hey, I hear something outside," Dean said. Sam had no reply. Cas nearly ran when Dean swiftly pushed past the door to reveal him standing there, unaware of where to go.

But he did manage to run when Dean's expression melted into a snide smile. He knew he probably seemed insane if Sam or Dean were really standing there for him, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want his mind making him... he just couldn't go there again.

Dean caught up with him easily, though. And he had a knife out.

"Dean!" he screamed, but not in protest of Dean, but to alert Dean, the real Dean, even though he somehow knew there was nothing the hunter could do to help.

"I'm not going to try anything, Cas, relax," Dean said. He lowered his hand with the gun, but the glint it let of in the small light reflected caused Cas to stiffen.

"Suppose you're going to say you're real," Cas said.

"I won't say anything of the sort. But I'm going to remind you," Dean, or the thing Cas was nearly certain _wasn't_ Dean said.

"Remind .me of what?"

Dean had nothing to say to that. He just came closer with that silver knife.

Cas backed up warily. He didn't know how much he could take this shit all over again. Dean caught up easily, though, and grabbed Cas's wrist as Cas prepared to run. He turned his arm over and took the knife and scraped down his arm. The knife wasn't sharp enough at first to split the skin open, so when he cut deeper it dragged across his skin, causing it to be so much more painful.

"Remember pain? And torture?" the thing looking like Dean said.

"Stop looking like him! Cas yelled in response desperately.

"That's not how this works. Remember the last time you were tortured? Actually tortured?" Dean twisted the blade in Cas's arm. "Or should I refresh your memory?"

"You mean by Tronniel?" Cas asked. Dean smiled again cruelly.

"Now you're getting somewhere. I don't think I'll even need to tie you up. But then again, aren't you already?" Bounds found themselves around Cas's arms before he could even process it. "Now did you remember what he said to you? That was crucial," Dean said before dragging the knife across Cas's jawline.

"What are you talking about?" Cas asked. He was now curious.

"Think about it, really, Cas," Dean said.

"He tortured me," Cas recalled.

"Why did he let you go?"

"Because... he.. he poisoned me. Oh! He, he poisoned me. And he said that..."

"Once you had enough to go back to him. Now, Cas, I know, since I'm here in your mind, that you've had enough." And with that Dean disappeared right in front of him.

Cas had expected black bliss to encumber him after the illusion disapated, but instead he was left in a mess on the ground. Whimpering with the cruel echoes of pain running along his body, he sure he looked like a pathetic mess.

And to think he'd once been an angel of the Lord.

\---

When Dean found him a few moments later, after pick-locking the seemingly locked door, Cas bitter sweetly thought about asking Dean if he was here to add some more gashes, and this time ones that would last.

He knew he should be wary of this figure; it could be his mind, but he wasn't buying into that. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking about Dean's hands on him, trying to coach him back into reality with his touch, that made Cas so quick to believe this.

"Cas, Cas, respond, Cas!" Cas vaguely registered the stature and set of Sam in the background, looking terrified.

"I'm... mm fine..." he responded. He tried to stand up to shake of the weary drowsiness, but his movements were wobbly and he relied on support from Dean. His sight came back properly, and he could register they were in Dean's room, the most easily distinguished room in the bunker by the home touches Dean had applied.

"Sorry..." he heard Dean whisper under his breath. A nod seemed appropriate to that. Of course Dean was forgiven.

"I need to go," Cas said as he tried to reassert his balance.

"Cas, I understand you want to get away, but could you wait until, well, until we can fix this?" Dean asked. No, that wasn't right. Cas shook his head to clear more fog from his mind.

"No, I have to go to fix it..." He had to go and pray to Tronniel. He had to convince the fallen angel that he truly didn't know; he needed to get the cure to this.

"Cas, please. Don't repeat this," he heard Dean say. Dean, he wasn't understanding. This had nothing to do with him.

"Tronniel, he poisoned me. I think. I need to talk to him to convince him to help me, and that I have no idea how to return the angels to Heaven. I wish I did... I'm working on that."

"Tronniel?"

"The angel that tortured me, well, the last one who did. You know, right before I came back here," Cas said.

"Yes," Dean replied tightly. "I get the picture. Fine, so we hunt down this Tronniel guy?"

"No, _you_ stay here. I will leave and then simply pray to him." With that Dean looked perplexed.

"No way! Cas, you're human! He could hurt you again... he could..."

"I have to agree with Dean on this one," Sam said, finally speaking up. "The angels want you dead, Cas. Be better if you had some back up."

"You think that he's going to help me if I come with the Winchesters?" Cas asked. It wasn't like they weren't human too, even if they were much better at leading human lives. "No, I'm leaving. But if this works, and if I'm welcome, I'll come back," Cas said.

"Of course," Sam replied quickly. When Cas looked at Dean, he got a small nod in agreement to Sam.

"I'm just going to get better," Cas tried to reassure Dean, whose expression was still disapproving.

"Cas..."

"Bye Dean. And Sam. I'm going to just get a reasonable distance away." Dean shifted towards Cas hastily.

"What if he tortures you again, Cas? What do I do then?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Yeah. Fat chance of that. You hear this plan, Sammy? Fool proof," Dean trailed on, but Cas had already turned heel to leave. "Cas!"

"I can't live in a daily reality where you and Sam harm me. Not when I have no idea which way is true. I've never heard of whatever Tronniel poisoned me with. I need to find out."

Cas didn't listen to anymore of Sam or Dean's (mostly Dean's) protests and just left. It would've been a lot simpler if could just zap away.

\---

Once Cas got to Lebanon, he caught a bus to Kansas, the city. Once there, he found a nice park with a dry wooden bench to sit and pray on in the descending dusk.

" _Tronniel, first of all, I'm sorry_ ," Cas began. He really didn't know how else to pray to an angel who tortured him for his part in falling. " _But I've had enough. This is Castiel, and here's my prayer out. You know where to find me_."

The time that passed after the simple prayer went out weighed on Cas, and he just sat there in anticipation, waiting for the inevitable pain to come. He half knew there was no convincing Tronniel. He hadn't been able to do it before.

Despite how long the moment felt, even with Cas's remaining incredible human patience, it wasn't more than a minute before Cas was zapped into a dark warehouse by the fallen angel.

"Castiel," he heard Tronniel say harshly. Some angels, who apparently worked for or with Tronniel, dragged him backwards, and he found himself bound to some board of upright standing wood, hands tied above his head.

"I'm not here to fight," Cas said immediately, registering the direty of the situation around him.

"Obviously. Do not think you would put up much of one. Even as the great Castiel," Tronniel replied, accenting the last three words. A bit of revulsion struck Cas strongly when he was some marks on Tronniel's neck. His vessel was melting. Weren't any of these angels even attempting to take their true vessels or the ones in the same bloodline? "Are you going to tell me how to stop all of it, Castiel? Tell me how we can get home?"

"When will anyone listen? I do not know!" Cas replied. He struggled uselessly against the bounds that strung his arms up with now real plan of escaping.

"If you are just going to lie, why did you call me here?" Tronniel asked. He seemed so calm about the matter.

"Read my mind!"

"Unfortunately I, along with ninety-nine percent of the angels, have lost that power when we fell," Tronniel replied.

"Just fix what you did to me! I do not know! I don't know, okay? I don't know how to fix. How could I convince you of that?"

"You smote half of Heaven. Castiel, you have done so much damage. How is anyone supposed to trust _you_? I am surprised your little humans still do," Tronniel shot back. Cas closed his eyes. He sometimes wondered that too.

"Just torture me until you know that it's true, then take you silly poison away," Cas begged feeling completely resigned.

"I am not talented enough at the art. There are only two beings that I would even remotely trust to be good enough," Tronniel replied.

"Get them. On Angel Radio. Just get this over with," Cas said.

"They are not angels."

"Who then?"

"One of them, Alastair. Dead. Obviously. The other, well, we do not have him at our disposal."

"Who could you possibly not be able to influence? Abaddon? Crowley? Last I heard neither of them were master torturers," Cas retorted.

"Sometimes you are thick, Castiel. I was talking about Dean Winchester. Alastair's finest student." Cas's blood ran cold.

"You really think it would take Alastair or... Dean to break me?"

"This is important. I cannot risk it."

"Then how do you think this poison's going to help. I _can't_ give you the information. I don't know how to fix it. Metratron stole my grace I was just an ingredi..." Tronniel proved how little he wanted to hear the truth by slicing his knife across Cas's neckline. Even after so much immediate pain like this he'd gone through feeling lately, somehow this still felt like agony.

"Just tell us the truth!"

"I am!"

"Fine. Why don't you convince Dean Winchester to let me possess him?"

"I'll say yes. Read my mind," Cas countered.

"You will manipulate your thoughts and lock me out. Dean Winchester cannot hide years of Hell." With that Cas broke into a laugh.

"Are you insane? Dean Winchester letting someone possess him? He'll never say yes."

"Just tell me where he is."

"No! And, sorry brother, but you're completely deluded if you think he'll even consider saying yes to you. Do you remember the Apocalypse?"

Some angel then entered the warehouse. The vessel was a very pretty girl with ginger hair, brown eyes, and freckles that covered even her button nose. It seemed so _off_ that he couldn't see his family's true faces. But the thing that seemed the most wrong about the situation was the fact she came in with Sam Winchester, with his hand behind his back in cuffs.

Now, now Cas was fury. He glared at Tronniel who just grinned back at him.

"It looks as if I might not need you to locate Dean Winchester, now. You should have done this alone, Castiel," Tronniel said gleefully. Cas glanced at Sam. How did the hunter even find him? The ex-angel didn't even know where he was.

"I didn't," he said tightly. The angel Cas hadn't identified dropped the angel blade she'd gotten from Sam onto the ground.

"You will not tell us how to fix this with your life and comfort on the line, but what about him? The vessel of Hell?" Tronniel asked.

"Don't you dare touch Sam! I don't know that. That won't change!"

"What about you, Sam? Do you agree with his statement?" Tronniel walked over to Sam.

"You should be searching for Metatron. Cas isn't the one with the blame," Sam said immediately and without hesitation. Tronniel slashed a little gash into Sam's arm, and Sam let out a little cry in protest.

Just with that an angel blade was launched with great precision right at Tronniel's face, who caught it.

"Ahh, Dean. Knew you would show up sooner or later." Another angel came up behind Dean, who'd been lurking somewhere in the shadows. Backing Sam up, watching the scene.

"Glad I could join the party," Dean said. He struggled against the two angels (he presumed) who seized him after he launched the knife until one of them put a blade straight up against his throat.

How the Hell did the Winchesters find him? And why would they walk into this trap?

"So, Dean," Tronniel said. He walked over to Dean. "Will you say yes to me? You're Michael's vessel; no damage will be done to your body," Tronniel said. Dean just sort of looked at him as if he were crazy.

"I'm sorry, but I think the whole prospect of _torturing Cas_ may have slightly put me off the idea. You angels really are insane. Not everyone is lining up to get possessed," Dean replied. He put as much force into his words as someone with a knife against their neck can.

"What? Would you prefer me kill both Sam and Castiel here and now in front of you?" Dean glanced over to Sam.

"Yes," he retorted briskly. Tronniel looked back at Sam, who stood there looking quite perplexed.

"Get Sam out of here. Far enough away for him not to be able to travel back for a good few hours," Tronniel said. After a simple nod from the girl with her ginger curls bobbing up as she did so, Sam and the fallen angel disappeared.

"What about if I just kill Castiel right here, nice and slow?" Tronniel smiled wickedly at Dean. Dean's joking smile faltered for a second before he returned to his cocky self.

"Nah. You obviously still believe he's your ticket home. You won't kill him. And don't try to say you'll do whatever to me because I think I'm good on life threats for right now." Tronniel rolled his eyes.

"Fine. I won't possess you." Tronniel moved close to Dean. Too close. The knife at his neck from the angel holding him was withdrawn, but instead Tronniel grabbed his shirt and said something Cas couldn't make out that made Dean's eyes go wide in fear. He then ripped down Dean’s shirt and held his blade to the symbol marked onto Dean's skin to prevent possession. Dean started struggling again against the angels who had him in his grip, but they wouldn't let up.

Cas helplessly struggled against his own restraints, but in the end he had no choice but to watch Dean scream as the skin was sliced of his chest and dark smoke from one of the angels-that was actually apparently a demon- forced its way down Dean's throat.

Dark eyes were dread, as those eyes full of light went completely black and bottomless. Now no one was restraining Dean besides the thing taking his control.

Cas knew possession was one of Dean's worst fears. He also knew that Dean had never really been quite possessed before. And now he was. Because of Cas.

"Oh, there's a whole goldmine in the mind of this one," Dean, it said, his voice a cruel false mimic of Dean's real tone. Just that in itself was enough to make Cas's skin crawl.

"Turns out I do not need his consent," Tronniel noted. Dean stood in the background, the demon refusing to let his eyes go light. He wore an image of Dean's grin, but it was twisted to a snide mocking smile.

"You are resorting to demonic possession? How far have _you_ fallen, Tronniel!"

"Far enough to do whatever it takes to get home," Tronniel replied. "Use Dean's skills to break him. Make him tell us how to get home." And Tronniel disappeared, leaving Cas completely alone with whatever twisted soul was inhabiting his friend, and Dean, who did not deserve this at all.


	8. Glimmer of Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A demon in Dean gets a hold of Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still reading this, then my life is being made in a million little ways.
> 
> (oh and there's like torture and noncon elements in this, but I'm guessing you are okay with that by now...)

“Hello Cas,” a black-eyed version of his best friend greeted coolly. The darkness drained from his eyes to reveal the light underneath, allowing Cas to imagine Dean struggling underneath against his will.

“Hello… what do you call yourself?” Cas replied, trying to sound stronger than how helpless he felt in the light of this situation.

“When you’re begging for the pain to end, just call me Dean,” the demon replied. He then smiled, turning Dean’s usually bright smile from the eyes to something mocking; it was something Cas had only ever seen in his mind.

“Make it so he can’t see?” Cas reduced himself to asking. The demon inside Dean just kept smiling at the pleading in Cas’s eyes.

“I’ll leave this lovely meatsuit now if you enlighten me on the how to reverse your little spell.”

“How much are they paying you? Whoever you are. What are the angels doing for you to make you work for them?” Dean, or, rather, the demon, stepped closer to Cas, who felt himself shiver at the proximity mixed with the helplessness he felt with the restraints on his body.

The demon slashed a nice long gash out on Cas’s arm, with blood that rushed quickly from the way they were held up, meaning the gravity was pulling the blood down.

“How about we don’t worry about me? I’m just your Dean. In fact, why don’t you trust me? Why don’t you just let me know? Or don’t. I think a little torture might be fun. And Dean? Oh, does he have so many ideas. Especially when it comes to you. I bet he knows how to break you better than anyone,” the demon said.

“He’d know about the angels. He knows I was tricked by Metatron…” Now Dean was within inches of Cas’s face.

“I don’t think Tronniel is going to buy that.” Dean’s face was twisted into another awful grin. “How about we start with some basic pain techniques? Dean knows his way around the nervous system, about which areas are the juiciest spots for lighting up pain receptors, than I ever did. I’ll just use his memory as a guidebook.”

“That won’t change the fact I don’t know,” Cas replied. Dean just kept on smiling. He then took the knife to free one of Cas’s arms. Still using the knife, he carved deep into Cas’s forearms. At first, Cas tried to keep his discomfort, or, rather, visible signs of the anguish, to their lowest, but that just seemed to entice the demon to go deeper, to build a sort of attractive trench on the back of Cas’s arm. Cas forgot when time stopped being a thing, but all he could focus on was the acute agony that consumed him completely. It was so much more vibrant than he ever recalled, and all he could see was pain, red, pain, and, occasionally, he could see Dean’s face. More pain. Smiling. Dean was enjoying this? Wait, but Dean wasn’t Dean.

It shouldn’t be this easy to make someone who used to be a warrior of God scream.

And then it stopped. Not that the pain ended, no; that was constant. It was throbbing. His arm, was it even going to work now? Would he be able to move it after this maltreatment?

The pain was back, but it was somewhere else now. Dean was punching him straight in the face. Hard blows, harder than Sam’s had been. Why had Sam wanted him in a drooling mess on the ground again? Cas couldn’t recall. All he could sense was the dull pulsing ache of his arm and the sure and utter force behind Dean’s blows. Surely that didn’t take much effort? Could Tronniel not have done this himself?

Maybe Dean had convinced him to make him. Maybe he wanted to see Cas like this, weak and in pain and not able to quite even capable of handling it.

Then that stopped, and it was just the sound of his blood pumping on his face and the tender pain he couldn’t ignore. This was real. This was human and real and everything he was still not experienced with.

“Do you know now? The great Castiel, do you know now that you are reduced to nearly nothing?”

Cas didn’t look up at the face of his torturer for a second. He should be used to this by now. He should be used to the sound of vile hateful words coming from that particular individual’s mouth. But he wasn’t.

He also wasn’t thinking of Dean, trapped inside his body, watching him break, watching him fall to pieces as the demon twisted that knife in that lovely trench in his arm. No, he was thinking of the pain, the humiliation, and the unfairness in the fact he didn’t know!

So he collected some of the blood in his mouth, which there seemed to be plenty of, and spat it in Dean’s face. It was easier to see clearer then. It was easier to see past the acute pain and see his surroundings, see the glaring face.

Everything felt like it was in echoes when the demon kneed Cas in the groin, sending more pain, oh too much, oh, why couldn’t he just die now? Could he beg for that? Could he find the words? Was the word “please” coming from his mouth now? No, it wasn’t; it just felt like it was.

“How about I just tell you all about this things on Dean’s mind? A lot of them are rather interesting, you should know. I’m convinced he can’t hide anything. So you lied to him about Metatron,” the demon said. “Now let me tell you what he thinks about all of this.”

“Don’t,” Castiel managed to mutter. Another colossal blow was landed on his face. Was he not already broken completely apart?

“Would you like to hear that seeing you this bloody is something he enjoys? But you probably guessed that. You know what he did in Hell. You know how much he liked it.”

“Glad… I could be of ser…” but Cas couldn’t get the words out before the wind was blocked out of him by a nasty elbow to his stomach.

“It was craving beyond that. You’ve let him down so many times it makes him feel good just to get it out. Right onto the mural of red on your face. Course that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you or anything,” the demon smiled wickedly. It knew how to turn Dean’s face into the epiphany of mockery in the same way Cas subconsciously did.

“You used to be so scary, Castiel! He used to be terrified of you. He had nightmares. His worst fear was of you abusing your power. Will I tell you how his worst nightmare started? Don’t you question why the fact he was yours was such a weak spot to him?

“That wasn’t what was going on…”

“I know how the poison works, trust me, but also trust me on Dean’s little view of the world.”

“He probably doesn’t want me…” Dean stabbed Cas directly in the leg, the knife sinking in deep. Cas couldn’t help but scream.

“How about I tell this little story? It starts with you, you and your threats, you and your everything. You, your lips on his. He was terrified of it. I don’t know how much he knew of you wanting that. That part isn’t important. But he was terrified. He was terrified you’d then switch to behind him, pull at his pants… surely you know where this is going?”

“He was…” Cas couldn’t get the words straight out. Not with this knife in his leg. Not with his arm bleeding out. Not with his face bruised and battered. He was human, and he would surely die if he wasn’t brought to a hospital. “Afraid of rape.”

“The most terrified he ever saw you was at the prospect of sex. But come on, we all know you really are a whore, Cas. You are a whore. Look at me when I say it,” Dean, not Dean, but Dean grabbed his face. He was once again met by green eyes, eyes that were full of light. It was so beautiful. Even in such pain, he was awed by the beauty of it.

A fist again collided with his face. The beauty was skewed to the side, knocked out of visibility range. He desperately hoped he could breathe that view in once again before he died.

“Just reveal to me a little. Don’t you trust me Cas? I won’t hurt you. But then again, you didn’t trust me with the angel tablet.”

“You’re… not him,” Cas choked out. Dean took the knife out of his leg. The withdrawal was twice as painful, and the blood started flowing.

“If you really aren’t going to tell me, then why don’t we have some fun? I could just fuck you a little… I mean, demons aren’t known just for torture. And you, well, I’m sure you could enjoy it,” the demon said. He grabbed at Cas’s shirt, clawing some skin in his grasp. “You like him being close to you,” the demon drawled, but anymore that wasn’t true. It made Cas’s skin crawl.

He thought of the past, his mind. Could he withstand another round of that? Would it feel the same when it’s not just played out in his mind? He was mentally preparing for the something just the memory of caused his stomach to roll and his skin to crawl. But when Dean came even closer to him, breathing pretty much the same oxygen as him, he broke.

“Please, please not this again,” he mumbled. It wasn’t supposed to even be a beg. It was supposed to be a prayer to no one who would listen.

“Again?” The demon unbound both of Cas’s arms causing the ex-angel to collapse onto his knees in front of the demon. It also caused more blood to squirt from Cas’s leg and more pain to make its immediate message to Cas’s brain.

“You do know that the poison turns the things you love, the things you feel towards someone, and twists them? You love their kindness; they’re being kind towards someone and it causes you harm. You love their eloquence; they’re using beautiful biting words with sarcasm. See how that applies, Cas?”

“I don’t know anything. Stop,” Cas begged. He was even on his knees in gesture, but begging was not what the demon inside Dean thought his position to be for.

“Why don’t you suck my cock? Or I could tie you down and fuck you real good, but why don’t we mix it up and just do this?”

Cas was trying to edge away, but he could barely move his leg. The blood continued to flow. He was going to bleed to death.

“Plus, he’s already half hard. Not used to torture being such a turn on for a human. Do you want to see, Cas? Do you want to see how cutting you up in all those ways and hearing the nasty sound of your screams made your Dean’s cock hard?”

“Stop…”

“I do wonder, if I killed you right now how hard he would come with some bleach blonde waitress a few towns over.”

“Stop it..”

“But what a drive…” the demon started to unzip Dean’s pants. Not this again. Cas didn’t even know how this worked.

“Stop it! Dean! Please!” Cas cried out. He wasn’t controlling much of what was going on anymore. It was mostly just basic instinct.

“Begging to Dean, now, are we? I wondered how long that would take.” The demon slapped Cas across the face, knocking him over to collapse on his right arm, leg crying out in pain.

“Stand up. I think I know the easiest way to break you. Easiest method out there, honestly. Why Tronniel didn’t think of it, I don’t know.” Cas remained a pathetic mess on the ground. “I said, stand up!”

Dean violently kicked Cas in the leg-the leg with the bleeding stab wound. After a minute of shaking sobs instead of progress in standing up, Dean, or the demon, it was hard to differentiate, kicked Cas again.

The force was enough to give Cas motivation to stand up. Cas didn’t know how he was standing again, he just was. But his leg gave out and he fell into Dean, clinging onto the hunter desperately. For a second, he was safe again. For a second, he was just there, with Dean. Sure, every bit of his body felt like it stop hurting so bad by being lit on fire, but he was safe.

It was a silly, split-second daydream that he couldn’t afford. Dean aggressively pushed him away and his battered body slammed against the board behind him. Dean then grabbed his arms and bound them up again.

"I could fuck your mouth till it was raw. Have you choke down my seed. Get to look down on you. You already are the most pathetic thing. Imagine that? And I could just memorise it; I could just keep that image in this mind of all eternity." Dean leaned in towards Cas. He flashed his eyes black again for a minute before turning them back to green. "But I don't think that is what would break you."

Cas squinted at Dean, or the demon, or whomever.

"You might not be strong, but if you can keep this secret I do know the surest way to get it out of you. I think I could break every one of your bones and torture you for all of eternity, something this vessel would certainly enjoy seeing, but I don't think that's what would break you." The demon paused. "That's not your pressure point."

"What the Hell are you going on about?" Cas mustered up enough energy to demand.

"What if I turned this knife in on this body? What if I slit my own throat? Then you wouldn't have to hear any more of my babbling," the demon threatened.

And he was right. That was exactly how you could break Cas. You'd think it that would've been more obvious.

"No!"

"Now we're getting somewhere." The demon cut a little matching mark on Dean’s cheek. “Though, why don’t you not tell me for a while and just beg for me to stop. Then, maybe, you can get some of your frustration at this figure out.”

“I really don’t know! Don’t hurt him. Stab me again. Hurt me. Kill me; I don’t care! Just don’t hurt…”

“Don’t hurt Dean. Is that gonna be your mantra?”

“I really don’t know anything. How can I prove that to you?”

“I’ll let you know a secret.” The demon came in close. He then whispered something Cas barely caught, but with the dim sound of nothing, Cas pretty sure he heard: “I believed you from the beginning,” then he raised his voice to a call. “Tronniel!”

Tronniel came in from some place. His eyes were probably first met by the sight of Cas, completely battered and just about bleeding to death, and Dean, whose eyes were now completely black.

“He is telling the truth. The angel Metatron used him. It’s been true all along. In Dean’s mind, I can see that the spell is irreversible,” the demon said.

“See?” Cas replied immediately, even if it was hard to choke out the words, and even if he Dean never enlightened him on the whole spell being irreversible thing. That kind of washed over him though; he was in too much pain. "Just give me the antidote. Please, brother, just let this be over."

Cas's vision seemed fuzzy and blurred, but Tronniel appeared laser focused. He seemed... what was that? Did he seem troubled?

"I... there's no way to get home?" Tronniel tilted his head to the side, but not in curiousity of this world but in resignation.

"Kill me then. Do me that much. Just... end this. There's obviously nothing more out there for me," Castiel asked.

"Castiel, I... I can't heal you. I can't give you the antidote. It requires the powers of Heaven. The only angels with enough grace to accomplish that would be... well, pretty much just Lucifer," Tronniel replied. He seemed dumbfounded. That made sense though. He had been completely convinced Cas would have the cure. It made sense... or was Cas just getting that dizzy? He absentmindedly wondered if any of this was a hallucination as well. What was the probability of that?

"Get that demon out of Dean," Cas requested. Tronniel rushed to unbound Cas, and helped him to a sitting position once he'd accomplished that. "Dean," Cas repeated angrily. Cas wasn't going to survive this. That wasn't even a point anymore.

"Abraham," Tronniel ordered to the ground, his vision lowered. The smoke exited in plumes from Dean's gullet at the same time Tronniel vanished into thin air. Dean collapsed onto the ground a few feet away from Cas. He appeared to be conscious, but he wasn't moving at all.

"Dean! Dean!" Cas echoed at the hunter. "You can't be hurt. I saw him. He didn't hurt you. I know he didn't hurt you. Not enough. Dean!"

Dean turned to face Cas, who's shaking hands were on the hunter's shoulders. He looked completely horror struck. Utterly appalled.

"Me?" He looked Cas over. He then turned at looked at the window, where the smoke had exited. "How dare you say those things to Cas!" he yelled desperately at the nothingness. "How dare you..!" his voice grew hoarse at the last few words from the loud desperation. He must've been quite hoarse because with the screaming he began to cough something awful. It took him a minute to get over that.

Suddenly, he was clinging onto Cas for dear life. It was broken; it was painful, but Dean seemed convinced that it was how Cas would spend the last few moments of his life. He just kept sobbing "I'm sorry" into the ex-angel's shoulder. Cas felt as if he was about to collapse onto the concrete floor. Fall, like a pen to the ground. Die collapsing, die falling, but not die crashing through the atmosphere.

Oh, but could he remember that.

He was scared Dean would start hurting him again because of the illness they hadn't even managed to recover, though, with the amount of blood flowing and the dizziness infringing upon Cas's coherence, that was the least of their problems. It appeared that when Cas was in pain it was clearer to see reality.

It made sense. It certainly was, in his past, that he saw clarity when he saw Dean.

Dean wouldn't stop sobbing. They probably made quite a picture there, grasping each other yet unable to stand up, bloodstained and bleeding in the middle of no where. Dean should be with his family now. With Sam and Kevin or with a family like Lisa and Ben. He should be happy. He shouldn't be stuck in the middle of nowhere with Cas. That was ridiculous.

Something in Dean must've have finally snapped too because he seemed to become insane. He yelled towards the Heavens, wait, no, that was a molding cold ceiling, for Ezekiel to come, the bastard. That he was in over his head. That he needed help. He prayed over Cas's shoulder for Tronniel to do them one favour, to just take them to Ezekiel, take them to Sam. Cas had no idea what was going on.

But as shitty as it all way, one this was for complete certain.

Losing Cas wasn't nothing to Dean. Cas mattered somehow, someway.

And the pain of having Cas die right in his arms hit him like a truck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry about this one...  
> I'm sorry about my updates I've been so busy  
> And then I've been doing camp nanowrimo for an original topic.
> 
> So yeah...  
> sorry the update was so long...  
> Come May things will be quicker.


	9. Loss Illuminates Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A healing Cas hears Dean's side of the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't /super/ depressing. Maybe a little angsty, but I need a break from pain after that finale...

Cas could remember the weight of secure arms around him. He could remember the remaining the pain, the bleeding out, the certainty that it was over.

But of course it hadn't been.

Tronniel had reeappeared. For some reason Dean's angry prayers had drawn the fallen angel back to that worn down dump in the middle of nowhere. Cas remembered struggling away, deeper into Dean's steadying arms on the ground, farther away from sight. In a flash, they were transported.

He saw Sam above him, his face stony and hard, but a smile placed upon it that seemed very kind. Cas was laid down on some sort of bed and the first thing that came to mind was how much he missed the feeling of Dean's arms around his broken body.

He felt warmth shoot through his body which seemed to cause a brief dismissal of pain. Darkness returned to its habit of seeping into Cas's consciousness, and he once again found the world dark. When he awakened, he felt Dean's hand on his, and the faint recognition of home and safety alluding to the aura that the bunker provided.

"Dean..." Cas said. He wanted to hold the hunter close because the expression on Dean's face seemed so far away. Nearly cold. With all the cold expressions Cas had seen on Dean's face lately, it wasn't the most comforting thought.

But Dean was still so beautiful. Despite how withdrawn he appeared, he was just so _beautiful_. A momentary feeling of euphoria came over Cas from the gratefulness that he had not, in fact, gone blind. That had been so terrifying. Cas felt a shudder come over his body.         

"Cas?" Dean asked, his hand not held in Cas's hand now on his shoulder, reassuring Cas, stabalising him.

Cas sat up dizzily, everything feeling as if it would merge with blackness. Once that passed, he took a close examination of his body.

That trench the demon had formed in his arm, gone. The cuts across his body, the stab wound in his leg, they were all somehow disappeared. There was only a faint trace of a scar on his arm to let him know he hadn't just, yet again, imagined the whole thing.

"Was... was it real?" Cas asked. He shouldn't be functioning so well, able to ask Dean such questions. Dean still seemed so cold and distant; it appeared that he wanted to retreat far away, but he still stayed. Was that because of Cas was here needing him? Is that why Dean stayed?

"Yes," Dean said. Cas savoured the words of honesty. They were important. At least Dean wasn't lying to him about things that were real and not anymore. "Cas, I'm _soo_ sorry..." Dean apologised, the words coming out heartbroken and exposed. Cas wanted to say of course he was forgiven, but again, it seemed too obvious.

" _Why_ couldn't you have let me handled it myself?" Cas asked. As free of scars as Cas was, there were a few nasty cuts still healing on Dean's face. It made Cas's stomach twinge.

"You... you were going to be tortured. You were tied up. I thought… I just _had_ to help,” Dean replied. Dean looked down. “You don’t need to forgive me, but do know the demon was lying…”

“I won’t hold anything the demon did against you, Dean,” Cas said. He gave Dean a gentle smile. Dean took in those words, disbelief on his face. How could that be disbelief? Surely he knew that Cas wouldn’t damn him for his actions under possession. “Let’s just forget it. But how am I okay?”

“I… got an angel to help you,” Dean said, except Cas had the memory of Sam’s face connected with the feeling of physical recovering. He ignored it. “I needed the help. They’re gone now.”

“Okay,” Cas said. He wasn’t sure how much he believed Dean with the hasty expression on the man’s face, but he drank in the words anyways, not caring.

“But Cas…” Dean pretty much choked out. Maybe he was actually putting to words something important that he usually wouldn’t.

“Yeah?”

“You said…” he paused. “When, when Abraham, that demon, when he…”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas commented. Dean glared at Cas’s attempted comfort.

“When you heard a threat for _rape_ coming from _my_ mouth your response was “Not again”. I’m guessing… I’m guessing that’s referring to…”

Cas was surprised. That did appear difficult to put to words. The fact Dean had out of pure worry or guilt or whatever made Cas feel worth something.

“It’s not important,” Cas replied. He offered Dean a smile which the hunter’s gaze shied away from as if he were uncomfortable with the kindness.

“Of course it is. Cas, do you even know what the heck has been going on? Do you? Do you know what has happened in the real world. Have you been able to tell the difference?”

Dean appeared to feel guilty. Should Cas be concerned? Dean always appeared to feel awful about _something_ he did. Cas wanted to comfort him. Sitting up, he realised he wasn’t really injured at all. Now he could hold a better conversation. Dean eyed his movements carefully.

“Enough, Dean. And I know enough for when it starts up again…”

“It won’t,” Dean replied tightly. “Never again, you never have to worry, okay?”

“Tronniel said…”

“I got another angel’s help. They had enough power. Tronniel was mistaken.”

Cas couldn’t help but feel a tinge of suspicion.

“Okay.”

“Cas, I didn’t want to hurt you. It scares me I was capable of it,” Dean said downwardly.

“It was a demon. It wasn’t you,” Cas replied. He prayed this wouldn’t affect Dean too badly. He didn’t want Dean to remember this in his dark hours or have it haunt his nightmares and leave him with the feeling of dread or guilt in the middle of the night…

That seemed like the worst outcome possible for the situation.

“Cas, that’s not what I’m talking about. I think… I think we should just, firstly, address everything that’s happened. Now that you can be sure I’m me. Wait, can you be sure?” Dean looked nervous. Cas felt unusually proud of Dean for being able to keep this conversation alive when it was so out of his comfort zone.

“I’m sure.”

“Do you… should I say something? But what?”

“Just start from the start, Dean. You don’t need to, but it could make things less confusing.”

“I umm… you called Kevin and Kevin came rushing into Sam and me worried about how you called him as if you were dying. He was rambling, the poor kid, and I tracked the GPS on your cell to find you bleeding out. Considering you didn’t even dial 911, I assumed you didn’t want help from outside sources to stay off the angel’s radar, so I helped you healed up after returning you to the bunker. It was when you started getting better that you started acting odd.”

He looked at Cas as if for reassurance he wasn’t explaining with too many words or in some terrible way, so Cas nodded to let him know to go on.

“You would flinch away from me at random times, and sometimes look hurt when I was just in the middle of talking to you. I kept thinking I must’ve said something wrong, but it was often at the oddest of times…

It was, well, the day Sammy told me worriedly that you’d woken up scared that you were blind and I went in to check on you and your sight was fine, but you appeared to be terrified of me. Everything about your stance suggested fear, and then you asked me if I were _sorry_. I didn’t know what that was referring to, but regardless I replied yes. Because there were a lot of things I was sorry about. You seemed to take my answer as if it hurt you more. I told you if you wanted to get something to eat, but you didn’t even reply, so I left feeling like I’d failed you or something. I suppose this was probably after I did something terrible in your mind? Or was I then? I don’t know. I’m sorry, Cas. And I should’ve guessed something major was going on from the very beginning.

Then Sam said you were going on the case with us. I was a little worried, probably less than I should’ve been, but honestly I just really wanted to spend time with you…” Cas shuddered for a second at the memory of going on that case, remembering the feeling of having to spend time with Dean who didn’t want anything to do with him except to fuck him…

The idea that Dean actually _wanted_ to spend time with Cas… well that was, that was beyond comprehension. Most of Dean’s story was. Had this really been the story? It seemed too good to be true. Had he hopped into a parallel world where Dean _cared_?

“Cas?” Dean asked, seeming worried.

“Nothing, go on,” Cas said. Dean looked concerned, but after a second he continued.

“When you came on the case with us, it seemed fine at the beginning. The car ride went smoothly until you started muttering. Most of it was incoherent, but I kept hearing you sobbing apologises for something, so I pulled over. Sam and I tried to console you, but you seemed nearly unconscious or something. You were pretty zoned out. I thought of bringing you to the hospital, but I thought you might not want that, and I couldn’t really get your consent on the matter, and you got better when we arrived at the motel so I thought I’d just talk to you about it later.

During the case, you seemed fine. You told me you thought you were sick. I later offered we could still go to the hospital. You weren’t super respondent towards the idea.

But it was when we got back to the motel before heading out to check out the werewolf that worried me the most. You completely blacked out. I was terrified. Sometimes you’d start shaking, and with how adamant you’d been about going to check on Fred… I supposed handcuffing you was what I thought would keep you safest. When you woke up you tried to bargain with me about letting you go on the case. When you told me that you wouldn’t go after the guy I’d specifically told you we were going after, I noticed you were missing like half of what I was saying. That worried me a lot. I didn’t want you potentially fighting a werewolf like that so I decided to leave you handcuffed. You told me… well you rightfully told me that if I left you handcuffed…” Dean stopped for a moment. Cas was surprising how much emotion the entire ordeal seemed to cause Dean. Cas had no idea he mattered so much. “That you would leave once you got them off. I… well, um… I thought that would be better than you dying on a case so I did anyways… had no idea you could get out of handcuffs cuffed behind your back.” Dean smiled at Cas again, proud, like before. “You somehow arrived there before I did, but in the end you weren’t gravely injured. Only when I was patching you up did you seem to relax around me and act normal again.”

“The pain made it easier to stay in reality,” Cas illuminated. Dean looked _guilty_ at that response, which had in no way been what Cas had wanted. None of this was Dean’s fault. The very idea it was made Cas feel weird and sick inside.

It made a small, irrational and still bleeding and broken part of him feel _glad_.

And that fact made him feel like he was about to throw up.

He tried to ignore all of these feelings and nodded at Dean encouragingly to carry on.

“You remained acting odd, like flinching around me and recoiling, when we returned to the bunker, but it wasn’t until, wasn’t until you accused me of stabbing you did I fully understand what was going on.

Cas, your _face_. How you just stared at me in disbelief, trying to make sense of why I would do it to you… it was crushing. I tried to, I tried to break through to you that it wasn’t real. But even when I finally did, it didn’t really change much. I just knew to stay further away, understood what going on. Sam and I researched every second of the day, but it didn’t change the fact we _couldn’t find how to save you_. None of the books we were looking at had any information on it.

And then…

Cas, if you hate me for telling you this, go ahead and do so. I understand. Fully. I understand if you never want to see my face again, though, after seeing my face in so many other… well… this one I can fully blame on _myself._

It was… It was… You remember right?”

“I knew it was you, Dean. I knew it all along. You weren’t very good at tricking me.”

“I’m so _sorry_ Cas. I’m sorry. I never… I never wanted that. Well, I won’t lie again, but I never wanted it to be _like that._ I wanted… I don’t know I just.”

“Dean, you’re not making any sense. What do you mean?”

“I never would’ve tried to… tried to have sex with you if I thought you didn’t want that too. I didn’t want to scar you. I didn’t want to be one more of your nightmares.”

“Dean, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how you went… you lied about it. You treated me as if I were insane and used my infliction to make believe you’d never…” Cas froze midsentence, the words _loved me_ right on the tip of his tongue. It took far too long to occur to the ex-angel that Dean may, in fact, still not love him. Especially if the reason he was so sorry about this whole ordeal was because he was afraid it was  _non-consensual_.

“And what I said… it wasn’t referring to that. You don’t need to worry about that. It’s unimportant. We can ignore it for eternity. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another nightmare created by my mind.”

“Okay, Cas. If that’s what you want. I just… just know, okay? Know that that’s _never_ how I imagined things to go? I just, I freaked out. That’s why I tried to pass it off as one of your illusions. I know that was awful and selfish and… I don’t expect you to forgive me for any of this, but just do know I freaked out because I thought I’d lost every chance with you with with… the fact I am who I am. I’m not going to deny that I wanted you for ages, but I just… I made a mistake,” Dean said, words tumbling over each other hesitantly. As grateful as Cas was for Dean’s honestly, Cas was still left completely confused.

“So you realised how much of a mistake sleeping with me was so you decided to pretend I was insane and hurt me to prove it?” Cas said. He wasn’t accusing Dean of anything. There wasn’t any anger in his voice. He was just trying to get the facts straight. And the facts hurt.

“Cas, you don’t _understand_. I didn’t want it to be like _that._ Rushed and rough. Hasty, I was trying to prove… Cas it was nearly downright violent,” Dean admitted. He could barely meet Cas’s eye. “I panicked. I don’t think I believed I could’ve treated _you_ that way.”

Cas thought back to that night, the way Dean, though yes, things were rough and raw, cared about him. He never hurt Cas in any way. Cas remembered how _happy_ he was. It was an oasis in a time of so many… so much terror. If anything was terrible about that experience it was the flashbacks, the reminders of where Dean’s skin hit his, not the way Dean, who was actually Dean, treated him.

Cas had been nothing but content and borderline ecstatic and then the words _love_ came out of Dean’s mouth.

Even thinking back on that hurt with a bittersweet sting.

How could Dean draw that into a bad light?

“I don’t regret it for a second,” Cas replied quietly.

“I should’ve treated you _right_ ,” Dean said.

“But you never once treated me wrong. I knew it was you and I would’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” Cas assured Dean. Some of the tension seemed to ease out of Dean’s shoulders. Then, it appeared, he was hit was sudden realisation.

“What the Hell did you mean when you said ‘Not again’ then?” Dean demanded, his voice a little uneven.

Dean had been nothing but honest to Cas, which, for Dean Winchester, was quite a rare thing, but somehow the thought of admitting any part of what had happened to Cas was too much. Cas was too weak to make those words exit his mouth. That was just… too much of a confession.

“None of your concern. You were being possessed. Probably heard something or…” Dean cut him off.

“It is _definitely_ my concern. I care about you, Cas. You have people who care about you, you can’t just go carrying massive loads around expect no one to help. And I know what I heard. Every damn second I remember clearly from in there.”

Cas didn’t know how to respond to that. He’d spend so much time believing no one cared, no one, not even _Dean_. He felt an involuntary shiver pass down his body.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Cas finally admitted. Dean looked awfully concerned, but replied kindly.

“Okay, well Sam and me are free if you ever do. But… Cas, just one question?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I’ve realised that I didn’t fool you a bit with trying to make you believe that, well that wasn’t reality. Okay this is actually two questions, but how did you know? And why did you think I lied about it?”

“I knew because you were kind, Dean. You never tried to hurt me until you were trying to prove a point, and I could tell there was reluctance when you did… And for why, I just assumed you regretted it. I mean, I don’t exactly fit your average date.” Cas tried to give a meager smile.

“Oh.” Dean stopped for a minute before adding; “Kind of hard to not know you love someone when you see them dying.” It appeared that Dean didn’t understand what he said until a second later. Then he froze.

Love someone?

Cas found himself also immobile. Dean seemed to be waiting for something. A reply? How was Cas supposed to reply to something like that? Was he supposed to let Dean know that he thought this must be too much? That this would all end up fleeting and every thought of _love_ from Dean would turn out to be some sort of sick torture? Or was there something Cas was actually supposed to say to Dean, in response; something he didn’t know being an angel.

It didn’t truly hit him that this could be reality.

Since he saw Cas die?

Cas didn’t even know when that was referring to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long the updates are taking me! I hope that didn't mess the story up either.  
> I also never planned on /Dean/ being so honest here. He just realised that would truly be how to help his previously delusional "friend". Also, I planned on Dean finding out about everything that happened to Cas, but Cas was the one who wasn't ready to say anything. Guess I'll leave that for a later time.
> 
> Oh, but is it not odd how Cas is healed?  
> (remember this takes place canon divergent of Heaven Can't Wait so a lot of storyline has been started there)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm guessing this will have a good few chapters.


End file.
